


these bonds are hard to let go

by mak (cold_blue_eyes)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Slow Burn, Warning: Kate Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-08 20:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 50,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15251292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cold_blue_eyes/pseuds/mak
Summary: Stiles was young when he found out he could do magic, that he was a witch. But living as an only son left him with too much time on his hands, which is why he decided to use his magic to create something he wasn't even sure it was possible in the first place. Alone in the woods, the young Stiles lost himself to magic, but someone found him. Someone saved him.It was a wolf.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a small thing, and became *this*. I'm really glad I was assigned to [this art](http://evisionarts.tumblr.com/post/175816603271/my-entry-for-the-2018-sterek-reverse), because I had the most fun writing the fic, and all thanks to [evisionarts](http://evisionarts.tumblr.com/), of course. You guys should totally go check it out!
> 
> Also, thanks a bunch for saving me and reading my fic, theydraggedmein and so-many-arrows, you guys rock!
> 
> Spanish version by Igni1LB [HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15573729/chapters/36156147)

_ past _

It was a good thing not many people knew of magic in the world. Stiles thought it was hard enough to deal with his own powers without having to care about defending himself from the rest of the kids in school, even though time and time again he felt compelled to use his magic in unsavory ways. 

Magic in itself was complicated and tricky, and Stiles was nothing if not cunning and resourceful with it.

His mother, though, would never let him use it to hurt someone, and Stiles would never disrespect his mother’s teachings that way. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to bend the rules every now and again in the guise of protecting himself.

At the age of seven, he learned how to summon a familiar using spirit butterflies, but he thought he could do one better if he tried summoning bigger things. He kept that a secret for quite some time, even if at the back of his mind he knew for sure his mom was aware of it.

In the long afternoons of summer he’d walk into the woods of the Preserve trying to see all the different creatures in there, but he just never knew what kind of animal he wanted for himself. He spent many hours trying to think of a companion, but Stiles just never found it, which is why he thought it would be a good idea to just create something. 

Magic for creation’s sake was never frowned upon, especially if it was harmless. Stiles barely knew how to make sparks when he snapped his fingers, but at nine-years-old, he knew how to read, and his mom had a ton of books in the basement which she never forbade Stiles to pore over if he wanted to.

The thing is, she probably never completely believed he would be able to do what he set out to. In that way, Claudia had been a fool.

Instead of summoning a creature that already existed, Stiles wanted to make his own spirit animal from magic, what he didn’t know at the time was that such level of magic would take its toll on him. 

In the middle of the woods with eyes closed, trying to meditate as hard as a child ever could, which in Stiles’ case was a meager three seconds; he wanted to draw strength from the trees and the wind and the sun, but also from the earth and the songs of the birds. But magic isn’t about what comes from the outside, and unbeknownst to Stiles the energy inside of him was trying its hardest not to explode.

In Stiles’ mind, the animal he imagined had the looks of a deer because they were creatures that attracted the eye and seemed strong, only Stiles himself couldn’t exactly remember the minute details of it. He knew that any magic creation had to be thought from the inside out for it to live and breathe, but he couldn’t recall everything from the science books he read. 

Keeping his eyes closed was hard for him, especially in silence. Stiles tried to imagine the creature in front of him as if he was drawing it on a piece of paper. Surprisingly, in the process, he felt himself settling down, felt his body and soul at peace as he let the quiet embrace him.

At first, it seemed like a milestone had been conquered with the level of concentration he achieved, only Stiles realized too late it wasn’t quite voluntary on his part - his magic was drawing all the force from his body for the creation, after all magic was life in itself.

A moment later he lost his senses to the magic and fell to the ground. He didn’t know yet, but right in front of him there was a something that resembled a deer, though more bones and flesh stitched together like a puppet rather than a live animal; its head a skull with horns, the creature stood as tall as the branches of a tree. 

The magic being didn’t breathe, didn’t move. It was just standing in the woods like a half-finished, life-like statue.

And then a wolf came bounding through the underbrush.

-

“Hello, Claudia?” Derek’s mom spoke on the landline. Everyone from the pack was in the living room, and Derek didn’t really know where to look, seeing as most of them were looking at him.

“Talia, it’s good to hear from you,” Mrs. Stilinski said.

“Unfortunately, I wish it were under better circumstances.” Derek could see in his mom’s face the concern and worry for the kid lying on the couch. “I think we just found your son in the woods.” 

He tried to tune out the conversation going on the phone, only then what he saw in the woods came back to haunt him. When he came home, back from the full shift, Derek had the kid in his arms asleep; however, no one seemed to believe him when he told them about the magic animal-like creature in the woods, but they seemed to know what to make of the boy. 

Derek’s father was looking at his wife from the corner of the room, while Peter had his eyes on the window, looking outside to aunt Olivia breastfeeding their child. Cora was sitting on the rug beside the couch, staring at the kid, while Laura was listening in on the conversation.

Derek somehow felt like he’d gotten himself into a mess of a situation without even knowing.

“What did you do to him, loser?” Asked Cora after a moment, looking up at Derek.

Derek’s father glanced his way, eyebrow raised in question, and Derek didn’t like being the kid that did something wrong because he’d never been that.

“I didn't do anything,” he said as he looked down. “I don’t even know him.”

“That’s Stiles, the Sheriff’s son. We’re in the same class.”

Derek looked at Cora in surprise, and though he didn’t comment on the fact, he realized that ; he knew  _ of _ the kid, Stiles. 

“His mom is the only witch left in Beacon Hills,” provided Laura from the side. That much Derek also knew. 

Even if the kids were kept in the dark about the supernatural ties in the world for most of their formative years, Derek had reached the age where knowledge started to be passed onto him as a sign of trust and confidence from the pack. This was a tradition in most packs to keep the kids from sniffing around in search of trouble, but also because supernatural creatures tended to keep to themselves. 

“Derek?” His mother put the phone down and stared at him. It was slightly unnerving to be the object of her gaze, but then her features softened. “Claudia is coming here to pick Stiles up, and I want everybody out of the house. But not you, Derek.”

He’d been ready to turn tail, but his mom’s words stopped him in his tracks. Derek saw the smirk on Laura’s face, probably thinking of all the horror stories Peter had shared on the subject of magic. They weren’t exactly kid-friendly, but werewolves always tried to outdo each other when telling spooky tales around bonfires.

While his sisters and Peter left the room, Derek tried not to look anywhere else but his own feet. He felt his father squeezing his shoulder as a sign of reassurance, before he, too, left. His mom came walking towards him, eyes focused on Derek.

“You didn’t do anything to him, right, Derek?” Her question demanded an honest answer, but he wouldn’t ever lie to his mom. Not that he could.

Derek shook his head. “No, mom. I was just running in the woods when I found him. And that  _ thing.” _

She frowned at him again. All of the family had brushed off this part of the tale, but Derek just couldn’t let this go for some reason, perhaps if they’d seen it they wouldn’t dismiss him so quickly.

“You do know some of the stories we tell about witches are nothing more than silly tales, but I would never have one of my children, one of my pack, hurting a citizen of our town, much less the son of a witch as powerful as Claudia.”

For a moment Derek wanted to mention that he’d have liked to know more about that before getting involved in this, but it wouldn’t change a thing about his situation anyway.

“Nothing happened,” he insisted. “I just found him like that, and I couldn’t leave him there.” Derek looked up, his eyes as innocent as himself. Talia knew better than to not lend him her trust.

She came forward and put both hands on his shoulders. 

“I know.” She breathed out, relieved, and Derek walked the rest of the way so he could bury himself in her warm embrace. 

It only lasted a moment, because right then the air was filled with a quick heartbeat, loud and banging like a drum. Both Derek and his mother turned to the couch where Stiles was laid down. His eyes were moving under the lids as his breath quickened.

Talia walked to the couch and crouched down to be at Stiles’ height. Derek stayed back, though he wanted to get closer too, only to know if Stiles was okay. Derek didn’t know exactly what happened, for him to get into the woods and be with that creature, so he wanted to make sure Stiles was alright. After all, he was just a kid.

“Stiles?” Talia calmly called his name, but Stiles’ eyes opened in a rush of panic.

He was about to ask something, but at the last moment, he closed his mouth. His eyes were looking around, darting from Talia, around the room, to Derek and then back. His heart was beating too fast in his chest, and Derek felt compelled to reach out and find a way to calm him down.

It wouldn’t do them any good if Stiles fainted again.

“Who are you?” Stiles asked. His hands twitched in a way that almost seemed dangerous. And now Derek wanted to step back in fear of being hit by stray magic.

His mother, however, exuded confidence and calmness. It was clear why she was the Alpha, and why Derek would never be.

“We are the Hales. Maybe your parents mentioned us?” Despite the tension in the air Derek’s mother stayed still while waiting for an answer.

Some recognition sparked in Stiles’ eyes, but he didn’t answer right away. For a child, he seemed almost too pensive. Derek wondered if Stiles had been controlling the creature in the forest in some way, and for someone as young as he was to have that power seemed to be the work of some unbalance in the universe. Or something.

Stiles started to sit up, but his hands went to his head as he grunted in pain. Talia helped him lay down again. Derek only remained in place through sheer force of will.

“You should wait for your mother to get here, I already called her.”

“She’s coming?” Stiles asked, once again panic set in his eyes, but it didn’t seem the same as before. He cast his gaze down like he didn’t want to face them. Or didn’t want to do that when his mother got there.

“Yes, she is. You just have to wait a moment and she’ll be here to take you home. Can you do that?” Talia’s reassuring voice helped Stiles’ heartbeat slow down, but only slightly.

She grabbed one of Stiles’ hands and held it in hers. Derek saw the black veins on her skin as she was draining whatever pain Stiles was feeling. When there was nothing left, Derek’s mom released Stiles and got up. Stiles turned his head to the backrest and avoided their eyes. Talia backed away from him and walked to Derek, stopping right beside him.

“There’s a car coming up the driveway, it’s probably his mom. Stay here while I talk to her,” she whispered before leaving the room, trusting Derek to do as he was told.

Left alone with Stiles, Derek hoped if he stayed quiet long enough time would pass and he wouldn’t have to talk to him. Not that he was afraid of doing so, he just felt like he didn’t really want anything to do with this. It was always a battle to hide his status as a werewolf, so the least Derek could be involved in any problems the less complicated his life would be.

It’s been decades now that the supernatural community had become almost recluse. They usually sought to establish themselves in smaller towns, living a simpler life away from conflict and never gathering together in the same place. In ancient times the supernatural world had been an integral part of society, but with the growth of the hunter population, fueled by prejudiced beliefs rather than a desire to protect the balance between both worlds, a divide was formed. It got to the point where the human world lived unaware of the existence of the supernatural, and the hunters still controlled all sides, somehow.

Being the Alpha of a pack, Talia had to have a truce with the local group of hunters, but it was nothing more than a respectful pact: the pack couldn’t turn anyone outside of immediate family and the hunters wouldn’t have to kill them. If someone ever came to marry into the Hales, they’d have to go through a complicated process to even get the chance to be given the bite.

“Did you see him?” Asked Stiles in a frail voice, catching Derek off guard.

Derek turned to look at Stiles. He could see shame in those eyes, but also something dangerous. It was as if Stiles knew of what werewolves thought of his kind and wanted to make sure that even at his age he could defend himself. Derek was a few years older than him, yet still, he stepped back to give Stiles a wide berth.

“What?” He asked, not wanting to admit seeing the creature he thought to have saved Stiles from in the first place.

“My animal. The deer, did you see it?” Stiles asked. He lifted his head to look at Derek.

“I think so.” Derek nodded to himself more than anyone else. It seemed like it wasn’t just to his mom that he couldn’t lie.

The image of that creature was running through his head. Derek couldn’t help but shiver at the sight of it coming his way. 

Why did Stiles call that thing his animal? Could it be possible for a kid at his age to pull out a creature like that from thin air? Perhaps there was a reason for those stories werewolves told about magic, after all.

“Was he moving?” 

“What?” Derek asked in confusion, unsure as to what Stiles wanted to know. 

The kid rolled his eyes in exasperation. Derek was taken aback by the amount of frustration in his gaze.

“I’m just asking if he was moving when you got to me, if he attacked you, if he walked away…” Stiles’ voice was frantic, and at first, Derek could only shake his head.

Stiles bit his lip.

“Is that thing supposed to be alive?” Derek’s eyes widened.

Something in Stiles came alive, but a blip later all the fire in his gaze turned to ash. Derek didn’t know if it was because of what he said. 

Right then he heard a car driving up to the house, then a door opening for someone to get out.

Derek wanted to strain his ears and hear what his mother and Stiles’ mom were talking about, but there was also a part of him that was strangely curious about this creature Stiles was inquiring about. How was it possible that someone like him would have that kind of power?

“Did you- how did you do it?” 

At the question, Stiles raised his eyes once again. He seemed to think of what to say for a beat.

“I just did,” Stiles simply stated.

Derek was about to open his mouth to ask something else, but then he didn’t know exactly what that was supposed to be. Even though he was a kid, Stiles’ thought process eluded Derek completely. He was left to wonder if all creatures that dealt with that kind of magic were the same way, because wolves were a lot more instinctive, leaving less room for planning and thinking; which isn’t to say they didn't think things through.  

Stiles closed his eyes again as if preparing himself for his mother to come. 

Derek was curious about him and the creature, and magic, but before he could think of another question the front door opened. 

His mother came walking in front of Stiles’ mom. If Talia moved like a wolf, casting her gaze downwards as her steps were completely silent on the floor, Claudia Stilinski was like a predator that didn’t care for stealth, majestic as she walked, heels clicking noisily. Her eyes were bright and alive.

Right at that moment, Derek sensed himself being hit with something different. The magic around that woman was so thick he could feel it like a wave of hot air washing over him. It was suddenly warm inside the house like summer came back again. Derek glanced at his mom trying to project a harmless and calm aura when he somehow knew she felt on edge too.

“Hello, Derek.” Claudia greeted him with a smile on her face. Derek wondered if she could turn into a devilish creature in the blink of an eye. “Thank you for making sure Stiles was safe.”

As she came forward, offering a hand for him to shake like they were both adults, Derek suddenly didn’t know if he even wanted to touch her. However, knowing it would be worse for him if he didn’t do it, Derek clasped his hand with hers.

Her skin was warm, and not at all repulsing. Not even her scent put him off exactly, and Derek only found out about that too late for him to actually be able to defend himself if she had been a threat. But then his mom would never bring something like that into their home.

After she released Derek’s hand, Claudia turned her eyes to her son on the couch. Stiles had hidden his face away when she came closer, but Derek could smell his scent in the air: a shame as pungent as Derek’s own insecurities.

“Stiles?” Claudia called to him as she kneeled down beside the couch. 

Derek stepped back, wanting to give them a modicum of privacy, but he didn’t know if he could leave the room. His mom wanted him there and this was their house. Some part of Derek compelled him to stay there because he saved Stiles in the first place, and at this moment it still felt like Stiles was in danger, if only of his own mother’s wrath.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” Claudia asked in a small voice, laying a gentle hand on Stiles’ shoulder. At first, he seemed to want to pull away, but it wasn’t like there was anywhere else for him to run.

Stiles took a moment to answer, and Claudia waited patiently. 

“I’m fine,” Stiles told her, turning around to sit up. Claudia moved closer to him, drawing Stiles’ gaze to hers.

“Whatever you did, it’s fine. We can talk about it back home, but you’re not in trouble, alright?” Her voice was so calm it even affected Derek.

For a moment no one moved. Then, Stiles jumped into his mother’s arms and hugged her hard, Claudia scooping him up to her chest as she lifted him from the couch. Stiles wasn’t exactly a small kid anymore, but his mom didn’t have any trouble with the weight.

As she gathered him, Claudia turned Derek’s way and send him a smile. “Thank you again, Derek.”

All her words were directed at him like she knew Derek more than she was letting on. But then maybe she did. Up until this moment, Derek had only seen her in passing and knew very little about magic, though it was part of their lives.

Claudia moved toward Derek’s mom and they only exchanged a few words before she left. 

Derek stayed rooted in the same place. He would have liked to find out about what he saw in the woods, to ask Claudia what Stiles had done out there, but he didn’t get a chance.

Right after Claudia left through the front door, Derek wanted to transform into his wolf and run into the woods to find the creature Stiles conceived on his own, but he couldn’t run from his mother’s questioning eyes.

Later when he did get out of the house and ran into the woods, Derek couldn’t get to the exact place where he found Stiles and neither could he smell any creature that didn’t belong to the forest. In a way, it seemed like it had never even been there.

Derek vowed not to talk about it if he didn’t need to.

The image of that creature came to haunt him at night, though.

-

After the events of that day, Derek started to catch a scent in the air every time he was at school. It beckoned him, but when Derek tried to find the source it disappeared in the air when he neared the fence they shared with the middle school patio. He never really cared about anyone other than his little sister to put himself through the ordeal of smelling those kids, but now it was different. 

“Are you sure you’re okay staying out here?” Laura asked as they walked to one of the tables in the grass. 

The two of them had lunch together a couple of times per week, the other days Laura spent her breaks with the popular crew from the senior class. It was important for the future Alpha to have ties to all the people in town, so she was working on that already.

“Yeah,” answered Derek, trying for a casual tone. It didn’t ring as true as he wanted, but Laura didn’t seem to notice.

They brought their lunches to a table under the oak trees and sat down. Most of the lawn was filled because the day was nice, even though winter was just around the corner.

“So, have you stopped dreaming about that thing you’ve been dreaming about?” She opened as they started to eat. Derek wanted to ignore her, but it wasn’t always a good idea.

“I think they’re going away,” he answered, but now it really wasn’t that convincing.

After he saw Stiles and the creature in the woods Derek had been having nightmares every other night. He wasn’t a screamer, so only Laura heard him rolling around the bed while sleep wouldn’t come.

“Did you talk to mom about it?” 

“Not really.”

Laura sighed. “I’m not gonna make you do it, but I think it’s stupid that you’re hiding something like this from mom. I know we made fun of you when you brought the Sheriff’s kid home, but it’s not like we don’t believe you if that was the problem.”

His sister was honest enough for him to know the guilt he smelled in the air was real. 

“I don’t think it has anything to do with that.” Derek inhaled deeply, only wanting to get the cool air into his lungs, but the scent that followed him around seemed to be the only thing he could pick up.

“It started after you found the kid in the woods, so there has to be something about it that’s making you have those nightmares. But it’s your call,” Laura told him, clearly wanting to give Derek some space. 

He appreciated it. Derek didn’t know if he wanted his future Alpha knowing so much about his own fears and what made him tick. In fact, Derek would have liked more to not have to deal with this, but things weren't always as easy.

What if he’d had a few nightmares since that day? It wasn’t like this was the end of the world. And what if he was able to catch Stiles’ scent in the mixture of all the kids’ odors at school? Derek knew his wolf was good at smelling stuff, so maybe it just imprinted on Stiles for the time being. 

If anything, it was better to be following Stiles’s scent than thinking about that person he could see from the corner of his eyes just staring at him from across the court. Derek tried to keep his eyes on the food in front of him and not show anything to his sister, but that substitute teacher gave him the creeps.

Just yesterday she came over during lunch when Derek was alone and started asking questions about things he didn’t want to answer. She seemed kind and gentle, but Derek couldn’t help but feel like prey whenever she came around. It wasn’t just the staring in English class that caused him discomfort, but she always found a way to touch him in a way that wasn’t inappropriate but felt like it.

Derek didn’t like to be around her, but sometimes it felt like Kate Argent was everywhere. That kind of attention would get any kid in his class head over heels, but Derek wanted none of it.

“Are you sure you don’t need some help, Derek?” She’d ask, putting a hand on his knee, a touch just this side of wrong, but Derek felt like he couldn’t cry foul because he was almost a man now. “I’m just asking because you’re always alone in here, and it’s our job as teachers to take care of all the kids.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say he didn’t need any help, but Kate had this way about her that stopped all his retorts. He figured if he stayed silent she would give up sooner or later, after all, he had no idea why she came after him in the first place.

Derek wasn't the most handsome in his class or the one with the most muscles. He wasn’t the best student, neither the worst. He was middle of the pack in each and every way, which is why he was confused as hell as to why she seemed so hung up on him.

He could tell the other teachers, but this might cause him more problems than her, and Derek didn’t want to draw attention to either himself or his family. 

In the end, he would rather face that deer-thing every night in his dreams than stay a moment longer with Kate. However, Derek knew things weren’t as easy as he wanted them to be, unfortunately.

-

As soon as they got home from the Hale House, Claudia was set on destroying Roscoe, but Stiles had shed enough tears to melt her heart. The deer was magically moved to the backyard of the Stilinskis, then Stiles’ mom concocted some magic potion to hide it in plain sight so people who didn’t know of magic wouldn’t be able to see it. 

At least Roscoe was easy to move around. They just had to push it forward and it’d go, not even bucking in protest. It was the opposite of how the Sheriff felt at first, but he didn’t have much of a choice besides accepting that Roscoe came to stay.

“It’s creepy, Claudia,” Stiles heard the two of them talking one morning before breakfast.

“I know,” she said, placatingly. “But Stiles made it and it’s important to him, Mr. Sheriff. Not every kid can create their own pet, much less something so big.” 

“But should we be worried about it?” Asked Stiles’ father.

For a moment Claudia said nothing, but then she let out a small laugh.

“No. I can’t imagine Stiles making anything bad. Deers can mean a hundred different good things for spirit animals and magic. They can symbolize the goodness of one’s heart, a sensible intuition, and hope. The animal is the king of all creatures in the forest, so it probably shows how special Stiles himself is.”

Stiles heard his father’s sigh as pride bloomed in his own little heart.

“I always knew he was,” said his dad.

If there was anything in Stiles that was afraid of how his parents would react, in that very moment it all vanished. He knew they loved him, but Stiles couldn’t always know everything. He thought they would be mad that he needed saving in the first place, but they said nothing.

They didn’t even talk about the Hales, but Stiles was curious about them and the wolf that came to his rescue. 

-

At school with his handful of friends, Stiles talked about homework and games, but his mind was often on the other side of the fence these days. He never even thought about anyone from high school, but now things seemed different.

“Hey, Stiles?” Scott asked when they sat down for lunch one day. The table was full again with Scott and Stiles together, Allison sitting right beside Scott and Lydia at her other side with Jackson next to her. Across the table, there was also Erica and Boyd, Isaac and Jackson, and the lunch room was chaos. 

“Yeah?” Stiles turned to him.

“We can’t play at my house this afternoon because mom called someone to mow the lawn. Can we go to yours?” Scott talked in his excited voice, which was brash enough to bring Stiles’ attention to this very moment.

He was ready to nod, but then Stiles remembered what was in his backyard. Was Roscoe really safe there?

“I don’t know? I think Dad’s going to work in the yard too, and he doesn’t like when we are running around his tools.” The lie came easily to him.

Scott’s smile diminished just a bit, but he dipped his head once and then turned to Isaac to ask if they could play at his house. 

This would do for the moment, but Stiles couldn’t keep his friends away from his home forever, because that would be impossible to sell. They’ve been coming to his house since they became friends. It was the one closest to the woods and playing in the forest was any kid’s favorite pastime.

“You guys can come to mine,” offered Jackson in a bored tone a moment later. He always acted like being with them was a chore, but Jackson never made a case of finding another group to have lunch with.

“I don’t think I can go,” Erica said, only loud enough for Boyd and Stiles to hear. 

She, along with Boyd, was mostly on the fringe of their group. They had been Isaac’s friends first, and when Scott brought Isaac to their table they came with him. Stiles sometimes liked to talk more to Erica at lunch than Scott, especially when he was too engrossed with Isaac and Allison.

“Why’s that?” Stiles asked her when the rest of the table started to make plans.

She looked nervously from Boyd to Stiles.

“I have to go to the doctor again.” 

Stiles didn’t have any magical powers of perception, but he could feel how she didn’t like when the subject turned to her doctors and her condition.

“You’ll be okay,” said Boyd to her. 

“Yeah, I think doctors are good people. They always help you, right? My mom goes to the doctor every month, and she’s alright,” Stiles told Erica, hoping to make her feel better. The small smile that appeared on her lips was enough to warm his heart.

“I just wish they could find a way for me to not…” She didn’t complete the sentence, but Boyd and Stiles knew what she was talking about. It certainly wasn’t easy for a kid her age to deal with having seizures in front of the class. No matter the age, kids talk, but it’s always the worst when they do it about you.

“Well, we’re all set,” informed Scott beside Stiles, and just then Stiles realized they had been talking a completely different thing on the other end of the table. “I’m going to bike to your house and then we go to Jackson’s, alright?”

“Yeah?” Stiles agreed before he took in all that Scott said. 

A second later Scott turned to Allison again, and Stiles huffed as he looked to the side. His eyes went to Erica.

“We can play tomorrow at your house if you parents don’t want you to leave,” he offered. 

Erica nodded, a light suddenly illuminating her face. Soon she launched on a talk about what they could do, which seemed to distract her from her health condition.

After lunch, they disbanded the group and went back to class. Stiles tried to convince himself that bringing his friends home wasn’t going to be a problem, as long as Roscoe stayed hidden in the woods with the magic his mom made. He was afraid they were going to find out about him, but that shouldn’t worry Stiles when his mom was that good with magic. 

Strangely enough, it didn’t bother him that Derek had seen it.

When school let out that afternoon Stiles went home to see Roscoe before leaving for Jackson’s with Scott. His mom was working at the flower shop, but to his surprise, she came by the house to get some things while he was in the backyard. 

Stiles was trying to make Roscoe move around, but it was hard. It didn’t seem like Roscoe listened to Stiles’ commands. 

“Need some help?” Claudia asked when she came out the back door to spy on Stiles. 

He shrugged but was dying to ask her to create some kind of magic to make Roscoe move on his own. Stiles wasn’t sure she would do it.

“I want to climb on his back,” he said instead.

“You sure you want to do that?” She asked, but still came his way.

“Of course,” answered Stiles. Stiles looked at Roscoe, some of its bones sticking out, flesh and skin not being able to cover all parts of its body. But it was impossible not to like Roscoe. Stiles had a special connection to him, he knew. 

Roscoe was purely Stiles’ own magic, it was impossible not to be connected to it

“Well, let’s hop on.” Claudia put her hands under Stiles’ armpits and gave him a boost so he could climb on Roscoe’s back, opening his legs to sit down. 

Stiles’ hands roamed over Roscoe’s neck. The deer was cold to the touch.

“You like this?” His mom asked. 

Stiles nodded. Even though it hadn’t been exactly what he wanted to do, he had to admit that there was something powerful in knowing that he created Roscoe, although the deer was less like an animal and more like a statue.

“Mom?”

“What is it, Stiles?”

“Do you think I can make him my familiar?” The question made Claudia look at him in surprise. 

She thought for a moment.

“I think so,” Stiles’ mom said. “Is that what you wanted to do? You wanted to get a familiar for yourself?”

Stiles shrugged. “Yeah.”

“And why didn’t you get an animal that already existed? You know I summon birds to help me with my magic because I don’t have only one familiar myself. It’s always more simple to get one for you when you need them,” she told him.

Stiles could see the curiosity in her eyes as she rubbed Roscoe’s pelt absently.

“I just thought it was going to be cool to make something,” he explained. “I saw the deer in a book, and I wanted one for myself because… they are pretty. I don’t know if it would be easy to find a deer in the woods.”

Claudia raised her eyes to her son and smiled. “They are pretty animals, for sure.”

“Yes, they are.”

Stiles knew Roscoe was a bit different from the other animals he saw in books. He was afraid his mom would say Roscoe wasn’t as attractive to the eye, but he was glad she liked him. In the end, Stiles just wanted his mom to think he did something amazing, and maybe like him even more. 

Not that his mom didn't love him, because she did, but Stiles almost felt like she distanced herself from him at times.

Just like at that moment: right after she helped him up onto Roscoe’s back, Claudia stepped aside and just watched Stiles. When he asked her to get down she came to him but then proceeded to leave Stiles alone and go back to work. Of course, she had to go to work, but Stiles just wanted her there a moment longer.

He was used to being a lonely kid. 

Stiles only wished he wasn’t.

-

Derek was in the woods running through tall pine trees and trying his best to escape from a predator. It was a game they played in his family, have the wolves run as hard as they could just to make sure they’d know how to escape when needed. Not that the pack was expecting a war anytime soon, but there were always stories going around.

Sometimes it was a group of stray hunters that didn’t respect the code and only wanted to rid the world of whoever they thought didn’t deserve to live in it. Or maybe it was some supernatural creature that was on the loose and the wolves had to protect themselves. 

For that reason, they had to know how to escape, because a fight was not worth staying for sometimes. 

This time, though, Derek was unsure as to why he was running. He was confused because he didn’t remember what happened that day for him to get there. He didn’t even know which day it was, and that was weird, but running on instinct was something he could do, so run he did.

He felt some panic lodged inside his chest, but Derek was increasing the distance between whoever was chasing him.

If something happened to get him there he would eventually remember, and if he found a way to jumpstart his mind it’d help. 

Derek tried to think of anyone that could pose a threat to him. Among his classmates, Derek couldn’t really think of one that would discover who he was and proceed to hunt him down. Maybe it was someone closer to Laura because she was the one with people orbiting around her. However, Laura was also much better at knowing people and whether they were good or not, so Derek was the one most likely to have outed himself.

He couldn’t think of anyone he saw on the street that felt like a threat, but then Derek wasn’t one to go out that much. Some of the teachers at school seemed to hate him, or that was just what he thought when he flunked a test. There was Kate, the substitute English teacher that was always creeping up on him in class, though Derek thought she was just weird and nothing more than that.

Derek couldn’t know. What he did know was that he had to run. 

This part of the forest was unknown to him and although in his wolf form he could catch scents that were farther away, Derek couldn’t really smell a thing that could clue him in on where he was.

He couldn’t help but feel fear weakening his legs, but his wolf won out and kept running.

At times it felt like he wasn’t getting anywhere because the woods seemed all the same. Derek felt his body tiring out and heard his breath loud in his ears, yet he still went on.

When he thought he couldn’t do it anymore and was ready to stop and give up, a big creature appeared in front of him. It was a huge deer that looked halfway gone to the other side of life, with holes for eyes and a bony skull for a head scaring Derek into submission. 

“Don’t fear, Derek,” said a voice that seemed to be in his head only. Derek tried to look around and find out who was speaking, but he couldn’t see a face. 

His vision started to turn black.

The deer in front of him reminded Derek of something or someone, but he couldn’t really remember who. He only saw the world turning black all around him and then darkness swallowed him all up. Derek tried to escape but there was nowhere to go. 

He started falling into a bottomless pit - and woke up in his own bed.

His heart was loud in his ears, but in the middle of the night, Derek was sure no one was listening in. He felt beads of sweat trickling down his neck and chest as he moved to sit up.

The world was absolutely quiet, not even the owls were hooting in the night.

“What the hell,” Derek whispered to himself, using a hand to wipe the sweat from his face. 

He got out of bed, walking to the bathroom next door to splash some water on his face. He took a moment to breathe and relax but didn’t really want to stay too long in there, otherwise, someone might get up.

A minute later when he left the bathroom Derek came face to face with Laura in the hallway.

“What happened?” She asked in a quiet tone, almost too quiet for Derek to hear even right in front of her.

He shook his head. “A nightmare. Just go to sleep,” he told her.

Laura’s stare was penetrating like she didn’t want to let this go, but Derek hoped she would. It wasn’t the right time to talk about those kinds of things, and Derek hoped his gaze conveyed that.

In the end, Laura let him go with a shake of her head and they both went back to their rooms.

Derek closed the door behind himself. Then, he walked all the way to his window.

The moon wasn’t full tonight, but it was still in the sky. Its faint light was enough to shed some clarity on the world outside the window, but Derek’s vision helped him see things too. The backyard was quiet, but as soon as he looked towards the woods Derek caught something that looked exactly like Stiles’s deer.

His heart went wild as he closed his eyes. It had to be some kind of illusion, and it was. A moment later when he opened them again there was nothing there. 

Instead of running the risk of seeing even more things, Derek left the window and went back to bed.

He slept fitfully.

-

Days blended into weeks. Stiles was on a mission to make Roscoe come alive, but his magic always found a wall when it came to his deer. It was still fun to lead him around the back patio and pet him. Stiles couldn’t even call Roscoe a thing, because he felt that the deer was more than a simple animal. 

In one of those afternoons Stiles found an old rope made out of braided strips of leather and lassoed Roscoe like a horse, only he never got the hole the right size and the rope just fell to the ground. Stiles ended up putting the middle of the rope in Roscoe’s mouth for him to clamp his teeth around it, which helped Stiles jump on his back and try to lead him around the backyard. 

“Roscoe?” Stiles called him, but of course, the animal said nothing. It wasn’t like he could expect any different when Stiles himself wasn’t able to make him more magical than he was.

Perhaps Stiles could ask his mom, but she didn’t really volunteer herself to help in the first place, so Stiles didn’t know if he should ask. In fact, he suspected she had put some kind of spell on Roscoe for him not to answer to Stiles’ own magic, and even though Stiles subconsciously understood that it was a way to protect him, he didn’t like it.

After giving up with a sigh, Stiles breathed deeply and laid a hand on Roscoe’s flank, trying to feel if there was anything inside of him. He tried to pass some energy onto the deer, but Stiles had no idea if that was even possible. In the end, he just lowered his head to Roscoe’s neck and closed his eyes.

Suddenly Roscoe shivered from head to toe. Stiles became alert, seeing a moment later that Roscoe lifted his head, turning back to look at Stiles with his vacant non-eyes.

“Roscoe?” Stiles asked, feeling just a smidge of fear inside. He realized right then that Roscoe didn’t just lift his head, but one of his legs moved like he wanted to scratch himself, and then Roscoe stomped his hooves on the ground.

“What’s happening?” Asked Stiles again, expecting the animal to answer him somehow. 

Unaware, Stiles pulled the rope. Roscoe bucked back once before taking off into the woods with Stiles on his back.

“Roscoe, stop!” Stiles yelled out, and Roscoe finally heard him, coming to a gentle stop in the woods. 

Stiles’ breathing was hard to control for a moment. He could hear his own heart beating loud as it pumped blood. It was almost like a curse has been lifted at that very moment, and Stiles had no idea what was happening. The fear in his chest was giving way to wonder.

He patted Roscoe on the neck, and though Roscoe was still cold, now Stiles could feel some kind of life force inside of him. How that happened so suddenly was a mystery to him, but Stiles didn’t get much time to think.

His nostrils picked up on a scent before he lifted his eyes to the sky to see a pillar of smoke billowing up into the air.

Stiles didn’t know exactly what came over him right then, but he pointed towards the place where the smoke was coming from and urged Roscoe to move. His deer answered with a grunt and then took off galloping.

The exhilaration Stiles felt brought adrenaline to his veins. It was hard to hold onto the rope, so Stiles wrapped his arms around Roscoe’s neck. His hands got inside some of the holes between the bones, but Stiles just held onto his deer as the two of them made their way through the forest. 

Stiles tried to see exactly where they were going, but it was hard. Only when the air around him got warmer and Stiles caught the smell of smoke with his nose, did he lift his head. 

“Stop, stop.” 

The deer slowed down just before the forest opened into a clearing. 

Stiles knew that place. 

It was the Hale House, and it was all on fire. 

Stiles dismounted Roscoe and walked quickly towards the house as fear gripped his heart tightly. There were no firefighters around and it was like no one was even there as the house was ablaze. Something felt wrong inside of Stiles. That feeling plummeted down his stomach when Stiles caught sight of a car that was parked not too far from the house on the other side.

It was a blue Jeep. His mom’s car.

“Mom?” Stiles called out, his voice almost too quiet. He heard a howl from the inside, chilling him to his bones. “Mom, where are you?!”

He ran to the house, tears falling from his eyes as Stiles faced the ugly truth. He was about to go into the fire, his skin burning from the exposure when Roscoe jumped right in front of him and blocked his path.

“Get out, Roscoe, I have to save her,” begged Stiles, but Roscoe didn’t budge. For a deer that had been immobile for the better part of the past weeks, he suddenly seemed strong and impenetrable.

Stiles heard a crash from the back of the house. He ran around with Roscoe at his heels, reaching the back in time to see three people on the ground, coughing up smoke and contorting themselves in pain. The adult man with them got up as Stiles ran to him.

“Where’s my mom?” Stiles asked the man, his icy blue eyes turning to Stiles with a fire that could burn the house down once again.

“They’re all dead,” said the man, almost with no sentiment behind. 

Stiles felt like he just got punched in the gut. 

“No. NO!” He screamed and then launched himself at the back door, only to be stopped by Roscoe again, and the man that held onto his right arm.

“You stay outside, I’m going in,” ordered the man.

He pushed Stiles aside and made his run for the door, but now Roscoe stopped the man from going in. Stiles fell to the ground, his eyes on Roscoe as he held his place at the entrance, grunting low in his throat, not letting the man get in.

Stiles thought the man was going to jump over Roscoe, but a second later a loud bang sounded in the air. The house just exploded, fire engulfing Roscoe, but not making him move from his spot, though it launched the man five steps back.

He fell to the ground too, and Stiles heard a guttural cry leaving his throat.

“Olivia!” The despair was thick in his voice. The claws in his hand pierced the earth as the world around burned in flames.

Too late, sirens started to wail in the air. Stiles wanted to get up to save Roscoe or try to save his mom, no matter how slim the chances of her being alive were, but he couldn’t move. His legs didn’t answer to him and he couldn’t even cry because he was paralyzed.

His eyes were still focused on the house on fire. From the flames came Roscoe trotting Stiles’ way. The deer laid down around him, as if he wanted to protect Stiles. 

That was the last thing Stiles saw before he lost his senses.


	2. Chapter 2

_present_

“Da-ad.” Stiles raised his eyes to the ceiling. It seemed like he was going to have to say it again since it was already the third time this week his father asked about Prank Day. “It’s a thing only seniors do, and I’m still a junior. You don’t have to worry about me.”

The Sheriff looked at Stiles dubiously, but conceded defeat and raised his hands.

“You’re still going to call me tonight to tell me you’re home, though. I don’t want to have to take in my own son because he did something stupid.” The Sheriff pointed a finger at Stiles, trying to sound menacing, but while he held a half-eaten piece of bread in his hand it wasn’t as effective. The coffee mustache also didn’t help that much.

The Sheriff wiped his face and finished breakfast. Stiles cleaned the table, then went to his room to get ready for school. From the window, he checked on Roscoe outside to see if the deer was still there, but Stiles needn’t have worried because Roscoe never left the backyard.

That was unless his father started with that idea of selling the house again, but then Roscoe would have a new backyard for himself, most likely.

Stiles didn’t like to think about that.

After the death of his mom, Stiles remained the sole witch in Beacon Hills, which wasn’t really anything special, but it did mean that every spell his mom used to make regularly to either protect their home or their family was in Stiles’ hands now. Things he never realized were his mom’s doing started not working anymore, like the light switch in the basement or the coffee machine. Stiles had to find a way to deal with all of that.

The truth about why Roscoe never answered to his magic until that last moment before the Hale House exploded also came to light. When a witch died all the spells they kept active would simply undo themselves, which is why Roscoe suddenly came alive.

The years after her death were hard, and though his father helped Stiles when he could, the man wasn’t supernatural in any way so he didn’t know the finer details of that world. Stiles had to find a way to camouflage Roscoe, ward their property and also cope with his anxiety and the trauma, though he underwent therapy for that.

When the Sheriff resorted to drinking at nights because he couldn’t deal with the loss, Stiles had to work harder to keep their small family together, but he didn’t need magic for that.

In the end, Beacon Hills was never the same after the fire, but it also was. For a lot of people it didn’t really change a thing, but besides losing his mom Stiles found himself alone in more ways than one. Not only did Stiles lose a part of his family, he also lost a master and an anchor for his magic.

At least he had Roscoe now.

The deer grunted down in the backyard, and Stiles made a series of clicks with his tongue to call him. Roscoe raised his head upward so he could look at Stiles in his own way. A moment later the deer lowered his head and went back to sniffing around.

“Stiles, I’m going!” the Sheriff hollered from downstairs, urging Stiles to move.

He grabbed the last of his things and ran out the door.

-

“We’re here,” said Peter as he finally slowed the truck to a stop.

For Derek, the trip had seemed interminable. They drove all the way from Canada after spending a season with a pack north of Vancouver, but now they were back home. Kind of.

Beacon Hills was a subject they avoided for years, but as time passed it seemed impossible to ignore its call. Cora made the choice of staying in South America with the pack that housed them for the first months after they left Beacon Hills - Derek’s father had some distant relatives in Colombia.

They took good care of Cora when both Peter and Derek hadn’t been in the best state of mind to do it. She got closer to them than she’d ever been with her family after the fire, and Derek could understand that.

After most of the Hale clan died in the flames of their old house, Peter packed the few things they had in the vault and together they ran away from town. If whoever did that to them was still there, it wouldn't have been a good idea to stay around.

A lot was left behind, but it didn’t matter now. Just the sight of the house Peter had built was enough to bring back some memories. It was an exact copy of the one they lived in the past, even had the same colors on the walls and the trim, and a garden of lilies around the front porch.

“It’s like it never happened,” commented Derek before he got out of the car.

“I don’t think it’ll ever feel like that,” said Peter. The man opened his door. “You get the stuff from the back and I’ll see if everything’s alright inside.” Peter tossed the keys to Derek and walked away from the car.

When his uncle was giving out orders he was alright, Derek knew. He was glad Peter wasn’t withdrawn and lost in his own world because he’d done that a lot in the past. Perhaps building the house had been part of his therapy.

Derek went to the back of the car to open the trunk. He hooked his arms around the handles of all the bags and pulled them out before kicking the door shut. As he marched towards the house, Derek noted that someone had been there not long ago to mow the lawn and tend to the flowerbeds.

He had to stop for a moment to take it all in. The memories flashing in his mind conflicted with the reality he faced.

“Are you coming in?” Peter called from the inside. Derek thought his uncle sounded almost worried, but maybe it was all in his head.

Contrary to the outside of the house, on the inside things were fairly different from the way it was back then. Derek didn’t know for sure if he liked the idea of living in a house that was so similar to the one from before, but when he stepped into the living room all the similarities ended and there wasn’t much to help him recall the past.

The staircase was in the same place, but the accents on the walls were different. There weren’t many trinkets or portraits that reminded him of his family. Derek didn’t have any problems seeing photos of his parents, but Peter was another story. It was the reason why they didn’t care to have that stuff around.

“The first floor is now an open concept and the upstairs was reconfigured,” said Peter from the kitchen as he went around opening windows. “There are just four bedrooms now and the rest is loft space. You can choose the one you want.”

Derek nodded. In the past, there had been more bedrooms and everything seemed almost too crammed together. Now he could see an open study on the other side of the dining room and bookshelves lining the back wall. The room was almost cavernous this way.

When he walked upstairs with the bags it definitely felt like a different place. He glanced at the two wings with bedrooms: the front of the house was perfect for Peter, who was always on the alert; Derek, on the other hand, liked more the opposite side, which was the same his old bedroom had been. Some of the memories he had of this place might not be so good, but Derek still liked to have the undisturbed view of the woods from his window.

He left Peter’s bags at the door to one of the rooms in the front of the house and took his own things to the back. He chose a bedroom that had almost the same view as his old one.

As far as he could remember, a part of the woods had caught on fire in the explosion and Derek could see that the clearing on the back of the house was bigger now. However, there were no scars left from the fire. Derek took a moment to search for marks on the bark of the trees.

He put his bags on the floor just below the window. This still didn’t feel like home, but after so many years it felt good to be back in Beacon Hills. He hadn’t wanted to come here before, but he knew he’d never be able to stay away from these woods forever.

It was in his blood more than anything else.

There was this part of him that couldn’t let go of the past, couldn't let go of those that had been in it. Sometimes he still saw that kid crying for his mom as the house exploded in pieces and that strange animal that saved his uncle.

They were all connected in death, and those bonds were hard to forget.

-

“This senior class is stupid beyond my comprehension,” announced Jackson when they all sat at the lunch table. He rolled his eyes before glancing at his food while half of the table kept looking at him like they weren’t sure if they agreed with him or wanted him to stop the whining already.

Stiles agreed with Jackson this time, but he wasn’t going to tell him that.

It was a fact that this class of seniors was probably the most uninteresting Beacon Hills High School ever had. But after years of bearing that sad burden, they finally decided to do something about it.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have announced your idea for Prank Day two years ago,” reasoned Lydia, not even sparing Jackson a glance.

Allison and Scott snickered on the side, Erica covered a smile with her hand, but Boyd remained stoic. Since Isaac wasn’t there today, and he had been absent a few times lately, though Stiles didn’t know exactly if anyone knew the reason why, it was hard to know his opinion on the matter.

“I think TP-ing the Hale house is kind of stupid when it’s in ruins and no one lives there anymore,” commented Scott after a moment. “It’s not like anyone is going to see it.” He shrugged.

“Didn’t you know, now?” Jackson sent him a knowing look. “The Hales are moving back to Beacon Hills.”

That was information that got everyone at the table paying attention to Jackson.

Stiles was surprised enough for his heartbeat to stumble on its own rhythm.

“Really?” Erica asked.

“My dad told me that Peter Hale had been around town lately, and he overheard a conversation about the house being renovated already.”

“So it’s not really in ruins anymore,” commented Lydia.

“Definitely not.”

Everybody was silent for a moment. It was obvious now why Jackson was mad. The seniors would get a chance of doing something no class had ever done before.

Stiles got himself thinking about what could happen with them, though. The Hales were werewolves, that much he knew. How many of them would be back? Just Peter? Maybe Cora and Derek also, or perhaps more? What could that mean for a class of students that most likely didn’t know of the supernatural?

He was more than curious.

Stiles turned to Scott to whisper in his ear. “What do you think about following them to see what’s going to happen tonight?” Stiles put the idea out there.

It was a known fact in town that Stiles and Scott were always up to something, usually because of Stiles. One day he wanted to try driving the Jeep over the train tracks, on another he wanted to try exploding a bag of manure in the middle of the woods, and one time he wanted to jump into the quarry with a plastic pool as a raft, and he always dragged Scott along. People thought they were reckless, but Stiles had a bit of control over the dangerous side of his exploits, even though he couldn’t really tell anyone about it.

“You sure?” Scott asked, his face a mixture of curiosity and fear, which was pretty much his M.O.

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded in mild excitement.

“What are you two dumbasses talking about?” Jackson demanded from the corner of the table.

Scott was ready to turn around and give him some choice words, but Stiles rolled his eyes and stopped Scott with a hand. Their table had been sitting together for years now, but that didn’t mean they still weren’t the weirdest group of friends in school. It was their own kind of friendship, although Stiles sometimes had doubts about the veracity of it.

“Nothing that concerns you, Prince Charming. We know you don’t like to go into the woods and-”

“Are you two going to follow the seniors?” Asked Allison, cutting Stiles mid-sentence.

Everyone at the table was looking at him now.

Stiles lifted his shoulders. “What’s better for us to do on a Thursday night?”

“I’m in,” she promptly said, wicked smile in place.

Scott at her side looked like he was swooning. “Really?” He asked, and Allison nodded to him. The two of them exchanged some amorous looks, but Stiles just wasn’t there for that.

“Anyone else?” Stiles asked, feeling backed into a corner.

Jackson didn’t dignify him with an answer.

“I’ll have to decline the invitation.” Lydia glanced at Stiles with a complacent look.

She was too good for that kind of thing, for sure. Years ago Stiles would have died for three seconds of her looking at him. Now things were different. He wasn’t as creepy anymore. At least he thought so.

“Erica?” Stiles turned to the girl in question, but she was already shaking her head.

“My parents want me to stay at home now that we started this new treatment.” It was in her eyes that secret desire to do something different and fun, but Erica had always been that way. Since Boyd followed her left and right he also begged off their nightly tour into the woods.

“Well, I guess it’s just the three of us,” said Stiles as he turned to Allison and Scott, who were still in their own world.

There was that to deal with, then.

For the rest of the classes, Stiles coordinated things on their group chat. He didn’t really have any problem leaving home at night, though his father instilled a curfew Stiles followed pretty often. Not today though. The Sheriff had the night shift and with the station already on alert because of the pranks, Stiles’ dad was bound to work all night and not have time to drive by the house to make sure Stiles was there.

At least in theory.

After school, Stiles got home in time to catch his father before he left for work. The Sheriff made him swear again not to do anything stupid that night.

He waited for Scott and Allison to come by when night fell. His house was right on the edge of the woods, so the plan was to walk the trails towards the Hale house, so no one would see them. Most people were afraid of doing that at night, but Stiles was a witch and he was taking Roscoe with him, so they were as safe as they could get.

Not that Scott and Allison would know.

Stiles put on a hoodie just to make sure he wasn’t going to get cold. He ate a cinnamon roll that had gone stale and then sat on the steps of the back porch as he watched Roscoe prancing around the yard to wait for his friends.

By now his deer was way more than just the simple-minded creature it had been when Stiles had created him. Roscoe had learned how to breathe like an animal and move stealthily when he wanted to scare Stiles - he was playful like that. With time Roscoe acquired a personality of his own and traits, even though Stiles didn’t exactly know how. He still wasn’t sure what kind of magic he used to make Roscoe back then.

Magic without boundaries and rules was not only the most dangerous according to what he’d learned reading his mother’s journals, but also the hardest to replicate, something he’d learned the hard way.

Stiles once went to the town’s resident Emissary, a man that knew of magic, to ask him about these things. Dr. Deaton wasn’t of much help, though. His training was in emissary work and Stiles was beyond that stage, he had inner powers that no emissary would ever be able to summon.

Stiles was completely alone in that aspect, but at least Roscoe was good company.

For some time Stiles watched his deer trotting around as he followed a bat that was flying from tree to tree. Soon he heard Allison’s car coming down the street and got up from the steps to go to the front of the house.

She wanted to park the car right at the curb, but before she did Stiles motioned for her to come around the back so the car was hidden.

Roscoe was startled by the car when it passed close to him.

“We don’t want people seeing the car and telling Scott that you’re cheating on him,” joked Stiles when his friends walked out.

Scott had a lopsided smile on his face as he shook his head. Allison huffed out a laugh.

“Well, my type is indeed guys who warm the bench at lacrosse, so…” She raised a shoulder.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” Stiles rolled his eyes, but the mockery was all in good nature.

“So, your dad won’t be coming home?” Scott asked, turning serious.

“I don’t think so.” Stiles shook his head. “I’ll have to call him later, but other than that I’m fine. He’s expecting some pranks to happen, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he shows up at the Hale house anyway.”

At that, Allison and Scott widened their eyes in surprise.

“And you think we should go anyway?” Asked Allison.

Stiles smirked. “Well, that’s the fun part, isn’t it?”

His dad didn’t have supernatural powers, after all. But the Hales did, which was the reason why Stiles wanted to see what was going to happen.

The three of them set out on their walk. Stiles knew most of the paths around his home. A lot of people in Beacon Hills used the preserve to exercise during the day, but it wasn’t unheard of people running the trails at night. Crime rates had always been very low in town and people weren’t that afraid.

That night, however, the forest was pretty quiet. Stiles looked back every now and then to make sure Roscoe was following them at a safe distance, even if his friends wouldn’t be able to see him.

Stiles hadn’t walked those trails in a long time. Even when he did, he never strayed too close to the Hale house. It wasn’t only because of the memories, he just didn’t like passing by this place where something so terrible had happened. If he knew things were different now, he’d have changed his routes, if only of curiosity.

Still far from the house, they were able to see some faint lights in between the tree trunks. As they neared the property, their steps became slower and quieter. With the knowledge of the condition the Hales had, Stiles tried to mask their scents and steps in some way, although it was hard using magic on people that didn’t know of it. Controlling the power while he tried not to raise suspicion was even harder.

Everything was pretty quiet when they finally stopped some yards away from the clearing where the house stood. Allison found a good bush for them to hide behind, but if Stiles wasn’t successful in his own part in the hiding, this could turn into a very stupid thing they decided to do.

“The house looks big,” commented Scott.

“Does it look like the one from before?” Allison asked.

“I don’t know, I never came here,” Scott told her, but his eyes went to Stiles because Scott knew enough about what happened there.

“I think it’s pretty close to what it was back then.” Stiles’ own admission made him look closely at the house. Images of the past flashed in his mind.

From the woods, it was impossible to know how many people were inside the house because there were lights on in some windows and every now and then someone walked by them, but they never stopped. If they did they might be able to see the three of them or at least sense them, but it didn’t happen.

At first, their stakeout was absolutely boring. As per Allison’s suggestion, they stayed in silence, only talking on their phones, which seemed like a smart idea.

It took a while for things to get interesting.

But finally, they did.

“Is that the Sheriff?” Scott asked as he saw the lights of a car coming up the driveway.

Stiles nodded with dread heavy in his stomach.

“Yup.” He made a gesture for all of them to get down behind the bushes, but it wasn’t like his Dad would see them. He hadn’t developed magical powers in the last few hours.

The three of them watched as the Sheriff stopped his car and got out just as Peter Hale opened the front door. The two of them met under the porch and engaged in conversation, but since they were far away it was impossible to make out the words.

Then someone else came out of the house.

Stiles didn’t remember much of Derek from the past, he barely knew the color of his hair or his eyes. Now the teenager had become a man of weathered features. Still, even from afar Stiles could sense the aura around him: gentle and innocent.

“Is that Derek Hale?” Scott asked in a whisper, and just as he did Derek turned towards the bush where the three of them were hiding.

It was so fast Stiles almost jumped back, realizing he’d relaxed on his protection spell, thus once more concentrating on masking their scents and heartbeats. The three of them were tense until Derek turned back to the Sheriff.

Scott let out a relieved sigh.

“I thought the dude heard us for a moment, man,” murmured Scott.

Neither Allison or Stiles answered, but there was something about the way Allison bit her lip at those words that made Stiles slightly curious.

“It’s not like he can.” Stiles forced a laugh, testing Allison’s reaction. She just nodded, and it was hard to know if she was hiding something or not. Maybe Stiles was just too suspicious after all.

The local charter of hunters had been controlled by the Argent family, but after the fire, they moved away and only Chris remained. Stiles’ dad swore that Chris didn’t want Allison to ever become a hunter, so she was out of the family business.

“Can you hear anything?” Scott asked, bringing Stiles’ attention back to the current moment.

“Not really,” answered Allison, and Stiles confirmed with a nod of his head.

If he wasn’t using his powers already he’d try to listen in, but he didn’t want to mess up the protection spells and expose them again.

However, if they weren’t exposed in the woods, someone else was. One moment Peter and Derek were both talking with the Sheriff, and in the next, the two of them turned their heads to the other side of the forest in unison.

Stiles wanted to know what they saw, although he could imagine.

“What’s happening?” Asked Scott when Peter said something to the Sheriff as he pointed towards the woods.

Accompanied by Peter and Derek, the Sheriff walked to the side where the werewolves had been looking at and pulled out a flashlight from his belt, using its beam to illuminate that part of the woods. It showed a few of the seniors trying to hide behind tree trunks.

“Stop right there, kids!” Shouted the Sheriff when he saw the commotion, but the group disbanded quickly and started to run away, leaving rolls of toilet paper behind as they cried for safety.

“Oh my God, what are they doing?” Allison asked, raising from behind the bushes to see it better.

She didn’t realize that just when she did it Derek turned his head their way again, and Stiles wanted to cover her, but Scott also got up and tried to look at Peter and the Sheriff going after the kids.

Derek disappeared from that side of the house and like lightning appeared on this side. Stiles had no idea how fast wolves could run, but this was a free demonstration.

“Guys, we need to go,” warned Stiles. Scott and Allison only then saw Derek walking their way with quick steps, almost getting to the edge of the clearing.

“Shit.”

Scott stepped backward, but as he was turning around his feet got caught in a vine and his face hit the ground a second later.

“Scott!” Exclaimed Allison as she tried to lift him up.

Stiles was torn between slapping himself in the face and helping his friends because things had just become as bad as he didn’t want them to get.

“I lost my inhaler,” said Scott in panic, forgetting to whisper at all.

He and Allison started to scour the ground around them to see if they could find it, but Stiles wanted to just run away. He didn’t, of course. By then it was too late because not only did Derek almost reach them, but his father and Peter were also coming their way.

Stiles knew this was going to become a mess.

At the last moment, he gave up on all his spells and stood there waiting for his father to come. Scott and Allison were still crouched down on the ground searching for the inhaler. Stiles gave them a hand by reaching for it with his powers and making it pop over the leaves. It was just right beside where Scott was.

“Yes, found it!” Scott raised the hand that held the inhaler and looked at Stiles with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, they did.” Stiles motioned with his head towards the cavalry.

“This is private property,” Derek announced as he stepped closer to them. Allison and Scott got up quickly and moved near to Stiles, who just huffed out a frustrated breath.

“Sorry, man. We didn’t know.” Stiles tried to save face, but Derek saw right through him.

“Stiles?” That was the Sheriff’s voice.

“Yes, Dad?” Stiles raised his hand like he’d been called in class.

Peter also walked behind the Sheriff, and the man just looked at them with a raised eyebrow. He said nothing, but the way his eyes stayed on Stiles like recognition hit him didn’t make Stiles feel any better.

He hadn’t seen Peter after the fire. From what his father told him Peter hadn’t been too happy that Roscoe got in the way of him killing himself as he tried to save those that were trapped inside the house.

“What are you doing here?” The Sheriff demanded an answer. “Are you with the other kids?” His tone was very accusing, and Stiles wanted to look up and ask for help from the heavens because explaining that they just came to see the seniors failing at their prank certainly wouldn’t stick with his dad.

He’d try anyway.

“We came here to see the prank this year, but apparently you got here before anything could happen, so... go Beacon Hills Sheriff Department?” Stiles raised a fist.

His father just lowered his eyes to the ground.

“We are sorry, Sheriff,” Scott tried, but as soon as he started to talk the Sheriff raised his eyes and pointed finger at him.

“Don’t you even think I’m not telling your mom, young man. Or does she know you’re out here in the woods at night, all by yourselves with no one around, running the risk of finding a criminal, or something worse.”

Scott and Allison cast their eyes downwards because the full force of the police badge certainly got to them, but Stiles was used to that.

It didn’t mean he was anymore used to getting scolded by his dad.

“It was all my fault,” Stiles tried to reason with his father because in the end he didn’t really want to cause his friends any problems. He was the one that had the idea in the first place.

The Sheriff sighed, frustration apparent in his face.

“Somehow I’m not the least bit surprised,” he said. Stiles’ dad shook his head. “I want the three of you in my cruiser right now, but not before you apologize to Peter and Derek.”

They were ready to escape, but those last words stopped them in their tracks. Scott went first and barely uttered his apology, but Allison got the words out at least. Stiles looked right at both men before he said anything.

“We weren’t going to do anything, really. But I’m sorry for interrupting your night,” he told them.

The Sheriff just pointed at the car without saying a thing, and the three of them went on their way. Stiles could hear his father doing some more apologizing to Peter, but as they moved further away it was hard to hear a thing.

One last time his eyes went to the woods, and Derek was looking right at him. As their eyes met briefly Derek looked away. Stiles followed his line of sight, only to realize that Derek was staring at Roscoe, now almost on the edge of the clearing and ready to follow Stiles.

With a shake of the head, Stiles stopped Roscoe.

“Sorry buddy, you’ll have to go home alone,” he whispered. In his own way, Roscoe understood Stiles and turned around to go back to town.

That had been loud enough for the werewolves to hear, but they could deal with that one by themselves.

When Stiles got into the backseat with Scott and Allison, because he knew his father was going to put him there anyway, he sighed.

“Sorry for this.” Stiles shook his head. “This was a bust.”

Allison shrugged, but Scott reached out to touch Stiles on his shoulder.

“At least we can tell everybody that the senior class went running home scared of the Sheriff instead of finishing their prank,” he said it like there was an upside to this night.

Stiles closed his eyes. “It’s not like we’re faring any better.” There was nothing else to say.

-

Derek couldn’t help but let his eyes follow the cruiser as it went away. It was such a coincidence that one of the first people he saw on the day he came back to Beacon Hills was also one of the last he’d seen before he went away, not to mention the creature that used to visit Derek in his dreams.

Since Derek moved away his nightmares had changed to something different because a half-dead deer wasn’t as terrifying as death could ever be, so Derek had seen it in his dreams only once or twice. He didn’t remember much from the day of the fire, but he knew what Peter told him and how the animal and Stiles had been there to save them.

“Sheriff’s kid grew up,” said his uncle from the porch, waiting for Derek to get inside. Derek nodded and then turned around to go in.

When Peter closed the door the house was still as quiet as it’s been before, which was the reason it was so easy to listen to anyone coming through the woods. However, Stiles must’ve done something to confuse Derek’s senses, as he’d barely been aware of their presence before he finally saw them behind the bushes.

“This night seemed awfully busy, I’d say.” Peter came back from the kitchen a moment later with a bottle of wine and one glass. He sat on the couch and positioned himself so he could look out the windows.

“Do you think these kids had anything to do with hunters or something like that?” Derek asked. Even though he thought the possibility was probably non-existent, it was curious how eventful their first night back had been.

Peter’s laugh was answer enough.

“Don’t be silly, Derek. Didn’t you have Prank Day when you were in school?” He asked, but silence was the only answer.

The two of them knew well enough that Derek didn’t get to have his last year of school in Beacon Hills.

Derek walked to the couch and sat down.

“I guess I’m just worried. I know you’ve talked to Chris before we came here-” Derek started, but Peter interrupted him.

“His daughter was there with Stiles.”

“What?” Asked Derek, but then he rewinded his uncle’s words.

“I’m sure it was another coincidence, Chris guaranteed that no one from his family in Beacon Hills is actively hunting. This is just another base they have,” said Peter, almost skeptically.

Derek didn’t make a comment on that, but he wasn’t sure if this was a coincidence or not. The only thing he felt right now was an urge to have a pack around him for protection, and although the feeling had been brewing inside him for some time now, never before had he felt it so fiercely.

If tonight hadn’t been just a prank, Derek and his uncle would have been unprotected against any threat, not to mention being isolated in a place where no one could reach them.

The old house was laced in protections spells and covered by wards, which was mostly work of the witch that lived in Beacon Hills back then. Derek needed to find someone to help him now, and there was an obvious candidate for him to reach out to.

Perhaps he’d have to get used to that deer anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the weekend and Stiles was grounded, not that he was surprised by that. As soon as his father had left Scott and Allison at their homes the other night, a big speech started in the car, coming to an end only when Stiles closed the door to his room for the night. 

Stiles knew his father dealt pretty well with his antics over the years, both his magical shenanigans and the things he got up to with Scott. He also knew that he always walked a fine line between being a good kid and a ticking time bomb. His father would probably have more years of life if Stiles had been more of the former, though.

The Sheriff’s bad mood lasted until the weekend. On his day off he planned to get some work done around the house and spend some time without having to worry about the town or Stiles. Early in the morning, he started to go around the house fixing things, which translated into the Sheriff smashing the hammer on his fingers and kicking corners of the furniture. 

Stiles gave him some space not to risk getting hit with something - not that the Sheriff would ever do anything like that, but Stiles wanted to avoid even the possibility.

He only approached his father when the grunts of pain weren’t heard around the house anymore. Stiles found the Sheriff on the back porch.

“Dad, you want some help?” He asked, partly contrite. Stiles had cleaned the entire house in the morning, so now there was nothing else for him to do. 

At first, the Sheriff was silent, but then he motioned for Stiles to come to help him fix the railing on the deck. 

“I want you to hold this and maybe use some of your magic to help me hit the nail,” instructed the Sheriff as he held a wooden board. 

“You got it.” Stiles did what his father told him. He saw the sorry state his father’s fingers were in, so he enhanced his father’s aim with a simple chant that cleared one’s head.

The nail went in on the first try. 

His father looked surprised for a moment but then sighed in relief. There were still the rest of the nails for him to hammer in, so Stiles helped him with all of those, finishing the task in record time. The railing ended up looking good, so congratulations were in order for the Stilinski men.

They sat side to side on the wooden deck. Roscoe was following birds up to the trees with his non-eyes, and the two of them spend some time watching him. 

“I’m sorry for anything I said the other day.” The Sheriff looked remorseful. 

“No worries, Dad.” Stiles was already used to blocking out his father’s rants when the man got too mad. Sometimes he ran his mouth more than he should, but it wasn’t like Stiles got his own lack of filter from anyone else.

“I just don’t want people to think you’re a terrible kid, you know? When your mother was here everybody would talk about how well-behaved you were, how educated and sweet. But after the fire…” The Sheriff shook his head.

Stiles didn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t like he’d been a terrible son, but after the fire, a lot of things changed. And certainly not for the better.

“I know that.” Stiles lifted his shoulders and then let them fall. “I know all of that. But this is the way I am. Sometimes there’s so much stuff inside that I don’t know what to do with it. You’re not a bad father, far from that, but mom was the one that dealt with magic. She knew what to do with all of this. I’m still trying to learn, and sometimes you get caught in the crossfire.”

The Sheriff nodded. He reached out for Stiles’ arm and squeezed him affectionately.

“You’re good with magic, Stiles. You’re good.” 

The Sheriff released his arm and the two of them said nothing for a moment. 

“So, what about the Hales?” Stiles asked, steering the conversation another way. Stilinski men didn’t like to talk about feelings that much.

“What about the Hales?” 

Stiles shrugged, not managing to completely hide how curious he was. “I don’t know. Did they move into town again for some special reason? It’s been a long time since we had wolves around Beacon Hills. And what about the hunters? Because we also haven’t heard a thing about them since the Hales moved out, and the town has been quiet for years.”

The suggestion that things might change now wasn’t lost on the Sheriff. Years back, when Stiles asked about something that didn’t concern him as a kid his father always brushed him off. But now both Stiles and his dad knew things were different.

“I don’t know, son. To be perfectly honest with you, I wouldn’t mind not having them back for good. I can’t think of them and not remember what happened. But then, I can’t very well forbid them to come back. If that causes the return of some people that would be best far from here, we can’t do anything about that either.”

The inevitability of a complicated relationship between werewolves and hunters was hard to predict or control. Stiles wasn’t completely versed in their history, but as far as he knew hunters were always where the wolves were. It was like a curse that was impossible to escape from. Though some of them swore to abide by the code and seemed like good people, like Chris Argent as far as Stiles knew, there was a reason why every supernatural creature was used to hiding.

Hunters were deeply connected to wolves, their existence was the reason why hunters came to be, but as their strength grew they didn’t want to only keep the world protected from wolves, they wanted more control. Now, hunters were present in pretty much all corners of the world, in some parts more than others. With its loose policy regarding gun ownership, America seemed to be a perfect place for them to expand and take over.

“Do you think they’ll build a pack here?” Stiles asked.

“I don’t know. Two lone wolves don’t really make a pack, and it’s not like they can start biting whoever they want. Even Chris wouldn’t allow that to happen.”

“And do you think…” Stiles stopped for a moment. He knew some bits and pieces of the work his mom had done for them. At the moment there was only one witch in the area, so would Stiles get involved in his mom’s line of work too?

“What is it?”

“Do you think they’ll want to find a witch to help them?” Stiles asked.

The Sheriff didn’t control the frown that marred his face. Stiles wondered if they had already commented something of that nature with his father in conversation.

“They can call the Emissary in town to help them. He has the experience to guide werewolf packs, at least I hope he does. They can also ask for my help if they need, but I don’t think they get to involve anyone else in their business.” The way he said those words was very final, and Stiles didn’t want to ask more and further upset his father.

He couldn't help but wonder how much of a help an Emissary would be. They didn’t really have much power, and his mom never had many good things to write about them in her journals. But his father made it clear that this was nothing Stiles should be concerned about. 

-

When Monday rolled around Stiles went back the school. The talk among students was about the failed prank and how this senior class still managed to disappoint the BHHS heritage. Even if the school disapproved of it, Prank Day was the hot topic in the hallways. 

Before class Stiles found Scott and Allison at her locker. The two of them seemed slightly worried when they saw Stiles.

“You’re okay?” Asked Scott in lieu of a greeting. Stiles nodded.

“You went kinda MIA all weekend,” Allison mentioned with a cautious tone.

Stiles made a ‘what can you do’ gesture. “Dad took my phone away after the other night. He’s giving it back in a week, or when the mood strikes, so until then, I can’t do much about it.”

“Ah sorry, man.” Scott did look it, but it wasn’t like he made Stiles do anything. 

The three of them walked to class when the bell rang. Stiles was surprisingly unbothered by the fact that he was grounded for part of the foreseeable future, at least his father didn’t take Roscoe away. He’d tried in the past, but that didn’t work very well.

The Sheriff couldn’t really forbid Stiles from using his powers. Technically he could, but it wasn’t like he could take them away from him, and with them, Stiles could make do without his phone. Of course, Stiles wouldn’t be sending out flying letters to his friends or owls with messages, but he could use his powers for other things. 

At school Stiles worked on getting a hold of the kids that tried to pull the prank, just to know if they were going to try it another day. From the tidbits of the conversation he got here and there they were just scared of getting caught again - and they should thank Stiles for providing a good distraction during their escape.

Other than that, Stiles heard a particularly interesting story from one of the seniors. It was during his free period, which Stiles usually spent in the library. There were some guys talking in the back shelves where no one could hear them.

“I thought someone was following me all weekend, man,” one of them said.

“Really?” Another asked.

“Yeah. I went to the grocery store with Mom and when I was driving back home, there was this black Camaro behind us. I’ve never seen the car in town and it was following us until we got home and then drove away. That was kind of weird.”

A third guy seemed overexcited beside the other two.

“The same happened to me,” he told them and then launched on a tale that included the same black Camaro in a similar situation. 

Stiles wasn’t that much into cars to know for sure if there was or not a Camaro in Beacon Hills. But then, it wasn’t like there was anything terribly suspicious with what those guys said. Maybe it was a coincidence.

As Stiles ruminated on that story though, he got himself wondering about something. It was just a hunch, but if the kids were saying that there was a new car in town, and the Hales just moved in, it could be a coincidence or not. If Derek or Peter wanted to scare those kids that tried to TP their house, this was one way of doing that. 

His mom always told stories of wolves stalking their prey, but this seemed like doing an awful lot of work just to scare some kids that didn’t do anything. Stiles’ dad did say that the Hales had to clean up a bunch of toilet paper that was left in the woods and the Sheriff would have gone after the kids if he knew exactly who they were, but the Hales didn’t really feed the Sheriff any information.

Stiles could understand wanting to stay away from the spotlight.

However, in this world of coincidences, Stiles noted how interesting it was that he spotted a black Camaro on his way home at the end of the day. Not surprisingly, Derek Hale was at the wheel. The car passed by Stiles going the other way, and Derek didn’t turn to look at him when he drove by. Not like Stiles expected him to.

-

Derek got inside the house carrying groceries. Peter was reading the newspaper on the living room couch, a bottle of wine opened in front of him on the coffee table.

“If you keep on your quest to scare the kids around town, at least fill the tank after you do it, uncle. Or maybe use your car.” In the last three days, Peter had left the house at different hours of the day, always taking Derek’s car.

It almost felt like he wanted to do something bad but didn’t want to be caught red-handed. 

“Oh, I’ll try to do that next time,” said Peter without looking at Derek.

It was hard to know if Peter was just humoring him with an answer or if he was telling the truth. Either way, Derek left his uncle to his own devices and went to put the food away. He didn’t want to get too bothered by Peter’s antics, Derek knew the man had his own urges for chaos sometimes, but they weren’t dangerous in any way. 

Derek always kept an eye on him, but at the moment he wanted to establish himself in the area, manage to find a good witch to help him set up wards around the house, and then survive the hunters.

Maybe after that, he’d look into finding out who killed his family. 

Derek wasn’t in a rush, though.

For now, he started with the dinner. Derek was used to being the one doing the meals wherever they went, while Peter was the one responsible for hunting. Since they’d gotten to Beacon Hills they’d had to scour the territory for the best area for hunting. Most of the Preserve was public land in the hands of the City council, so the less they disrupted it, the better.

Derek would like to get on everyone’s good side here. The Sheriff had given them a lukewarm welcome, apologizing for the kids in town, but wanting his family to stay away from the supernatural business with wolves. But Derek didn’t expect any different.

“So, how is our little town? Did you see any of your friends from school, Derek?” Asked Peter from the door to the kitchen. His voice carried a mocking lilt.

Derek huffed out a breath. “I haven’t been here in years. I don’t even know any of them now. Some memories from those years weren’t important enough to occupy space in my head.”

Peter hummed, wine glass in one hand, bottle in the other. He walked into the kitchen and deposited the bottle on the counter, then leaned against it. “Well, instead of checking out the town, you should probably worry more about finding a nice girl that’ll want to get bitten and give you some pups. Otherwise, we’re going to be living here alone for some time.”

The suggestion made Derek visibly shake, which was enough to make his uncle laugh. 

That came out of the left field, Derek thought to himself.

“You could give yourself that same advice, uncle”, Derek didn’t control his condescending tone.

A beat later Derek sensed how the air became charged. Peter stayed very still for a moment.

“You know that’s not a possibility for me, nephew. It’s hard to find new love when you can’t let go of the last one,” he said. Derek turned to look at him from the side and saw Peter thumbing the  only ring he wore.

He never took that one off.

“Do you really think I should find someone just to form a pack?” Derek asked, slightly unsure and nervous as to what his uncle would answer.

Although Derek was the Alpha, he always wanted to make sure his small pack was going to thrive one way or the other and was willing to make the sacrifices needed for that.

“I don’t think you should do it,” said Peter, pensively. “It wouldn’t be bad to have more wolves around, but you know most attempts at expanding packs are usually thwarted by hunters, no matter where you live. As long as we don’t know if we are safe here, I don’t think it’s a good idea to put more lives at risk.”

Derek nodded because Peter was right.

“But you don’t need to worry yourself too much over this,” Peter continued. “We can defend ourselves. If push comes to shove, I’m pretty sure we can ask someone around town to come to our rescue. They already did once, why not do it again?” 

Peter raised his brows knowingly at Derek, and then took the bottle of wine with himself back to the living room. 

Derek knew who Peter was talking about. 

Back then, Derek had been the only wolf in the house that didn’t feel as affected by the magic released during the fire and he was the only one that managed to howl as loud as he could. A moment after he dragged Peter and Cora out of the house, Stiles came bounding through the trees on his deer.

Stiles and his deer saved Peter from certain death. Derek wondered if they had the power to help them now, but the Sheriff had made a point of telling Derek he expected his family to be kept out of the Hales’ problems.

There was Dr. Deaton in town, but if he hadn’t been able to help them in the past, Derek doubted he’d be any good now. Also, emissaries were tricky creatures. Derek’s mom seemed to have trusted Claudia much more in the past, even if it wasn’t enough to save them in the end.

If the Sheriff wasn’t going to willingly let Stiles help them, Derek had to think of something. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so terrible to follow his uncle’s advice. 

-

Stiles always made a case of going around the house and the woods in the back to make sure his wards were still in place. In all the years they’d been there, nothing came close to their home. Not a creature, nothing that wanted to attack witches - because his mom was a powerful woman, and then because Stiles worked as hard as he could to pick up the slack.

Even now he went up in the attic to read the journals and books his mom left, and every time Stiles wondered why he still hasn't started to create his own big spells and potions. Of course, he’d tried, but Stiles didn’t want to write the thirty-five ways to make your backyard explode. Stiles wanted powerful magic to pour out of his fingers.

He was powerful enough to make pretty much everything his mother had written in her books, but Stiles wasn’t in a place where he could move past that, which was frustrating. At least he could use that frustration to improve himself and work harder.

At least there was Roscoe with him all the time, who filtered Stiles’ magic and was good company. Especially now that Stiles couldn’t leave the house. There were fifteen different ways Stiles could bypass that easily, but somehow this time he felt like following his father’s orders.

He could go with Roscoe into the woods and ride him freely, which was something his father, fortunately, didn’t forbid him from doing. Most afternoons that week, Stiles came home from school and changed clothes quickly before taking Roscoe to the forest.

Stiles needed to go farther away from the neighboring houses if he didn’t want them to see a kid riding thin air; choosing paths few people ventured deep enough to walk and then letting Roscoe’s movements beneath him distract his mind from everything else.

If he was too distracted, Roscoe would warn him when someone came. Some afternoons it happened once or twice, others not at all. Roscoe usually turned his head back to Stiles and grunted as he motioned with his head towards the direction someone was coming from, and then Stiles proceeded to snap his fingers and make Roscoe disappear completely, because from far away it was just an illusion, but up close people would be able to see him if they paid attention.

The system had always worked perfectly. 

Until of course it didn’t. On that day, Stiles was close to falling off Roscoe when someone snuck up on them.

“Hello,” called a voice from behind Stiles, and he turned around quickly as his heart went off.

“This is not what you-” he stopped his cover story mid-sentence when he realized it was just Derek.

Derek running in the woods, half naked.

Stiles couldn’t help but peek downwards before returning to Derek’s face, and a smirk that widened just a bit. It was dumbfounding, the way Stiles found a way to make a fool of himself more than once in front of this man.

Stiles was easily distracted, though. That was the truth.

“Hi,” Stiles said. He felt his ears turning pink.

“I thought it was you,” Derek told him. “But I didn't want to scare you.”

Those words coming so easily from Derek, and in a tone that was far from menacing, were giving Stiles whiplash after what happened the other night.

“Yeah, usually this guy warns me,” commented Stiles as he patted Roscoe. 

It felt weird to be mounted on his deer and Derek looking up. Stiles didn’t know if his legs were going to help him get down without him making a bigger fool of himself.

To his surprise, Derek stepped closer to Roscoe and offered his hand for the deer to sniff at, as if Roscoe actually could do it. Stiles was ready to open his mouth to say something about that, when Roscoe bumped Derek’s hand gently, prompting a laugh out of the man.

It seemed a bit unfair, the way Derek’s skin glinted in the sun. His smile was also unfair, and the bunny teeth.

“He seems to like you,” said Stiles after swallowing dryly.

“Maybe that’s why he wasn’t afraid. Not like I would do anything to you.” Derek sent another disarming smile Stiles’ way.

Derek stepped even closer to him, his chest almost touching Stiles’ knee. The man looked from Roscoe to Stiles, going up slowly. Stiles tried to control the way his body wanted to twitch.

“I guess I’ll let you go?” Said Derek when his eyes finally got up to Stiles’ face.

Stiles was only able to nod and then Derek smiled again, that half smile, half smirk, a bit curved at one side while his eyes looked almost shut, but also mysterious. Then Derek went around Stiles and continued his run towards the other side of the trail, effectively breaking the spell; but at least allowing Stiles the pleasure of watching Derek’s muscles in action.

“What happened with you?” Stiles complained to Roscoe when Derek disappeared further up the trail, but it wasn’t like his deer was going to start spewing words. Roscoe seemed completely enraptured with doing nothing. 

The weirdest part of all of this was that his dad made sure to tell Stiles that he wasn’t to get himself involved with the Hales and Stiles was going to respect that. Yet, strangely, Derek just appeared out of nowhere flirting with Stiles, because that was clearly flirting. Stiles didn’t know what was happening anymore.

Perhaps it was that isolation from the rest of the world was playing tricks on him. What Stiles knew was that if his punishment included watching Derek running in basketball shorts, he had no problem with that. Maybe he’d insist on his father grounding him more often.

-

With nothing better to do, Stiles resorted to studying his mother’s work in the attic. He usually left the room to sleep in his own bed, but on the nights his Dad was working, and while he wasn’t allowed to use his phone, Stiles didn’t really mind staying up there reading until he passed out. Though, come morning he always regretted at least not taking his pillow with him.

“Breakfast is ready, Stiles.” 

When his father’s voice roused him that morning, Stiles had his head pillowed in his arms with a bunch of books strewn around the floor.

He took a moment to get his bearings before he got up. Stiles passed by the bathroom on the way to his room to wash his face and then he changed clothes and took his backpack to go to school. He climbed down the stairs and walked into the kitchen. After placing the backpack on a chair, Stiles raised his head to look at his father.

The Sheriff had an eyebrow raised at him.

“What?”

“You want to go to school today,” the Sheriff stated. It wasn’t even a question.

Stiles looked at him in confusion, not knowing why his father said that. Then he stared at the clock on the wall. It was half-past ten in the morning.

He panicked for a couple of seconds before he remembered which day it was. Stiles cursed himself with a groan but ended up sitting at the table, right as his father brought him a mug of coffee.

“Are you sure you didn’t go out to some party last night?” Asked the Sheriff, but he was mostly joking.

“As if. I was reading, and then sleeping on the rug in the attic.” Stiles groaned once more before taking his coffee.

“Maybe we should think about getting you at least a yoga mat up there,” joked the Sheriff. Stiles looked at him in confusion again because his dad coming home in a good mood after a night shift was something to behold.

Not that the man didn’t like his job, but after a graveyard shift at the station one was bound to at least be tired. But the Sheriff didn’t look it today.

“Did someone abduct my father and exchange him for you?” Stiles asked.

The Sheriff laughed, shaking his head. 

“No, I’m serious, dad. There’s breakfast and coffee for me, good mood for you. There’s just a tree missing for Christmas.”

“Nothing happened, son.”

Stiles didn’t believe that, not even for a minute, but he still wasn’t fully awake and there was the beginning of a headache making itself known over his left eyebrow,  so he wasn’t really in the mood to find out what was happening with his father either; Stiles ate his breakfast and went back to bed.

When he woke up in time for a late lunch his father told him about their plans for the night. As usual, they were going to the diner on Main Street because they had some good burgers and fresh salad, which was a must on the Sheriff’s plate.

That night, Stiles didn’t even have to have that discussion about his dad eating healthy stuff because the Sheriff ordered himself a salad, and Stiles was at a complete loss because of it.

“You can close your mouth now before something gets in there.”

“What’s happening today?”

The Sheriff rolled his eyes, but it felt like he didn’t want to keep whatever was on his mind from Stiles anymore.

“Son, you know we’ve been talking about the house for some time now, right?”

And there came that subject again. 

“Yes?” Stiles asked, unsure if he liked where this conversation was bound to go.

“I think I’m going to finally put the house for sale. It’s just the two of us in there and even though my salary is good, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep maintaining the house all by myself. And I don’t even want to know about what’s going to happen when you move out, I’m gonna be alone and that house is much too big for me.”

As the Sheriff said all of that, Stiles kept quiet, just thinking about what his father said. Stiles knew that there were empty rooms in the house and it was big for the two of them, not to mention the upkeep, but he never thought it’d become a real problem for his dad.

“And why did you decide that now?” Stiles asked.

“I’ve been talking with a realtor in town and he said there’s a couple of families that want to move to Beacon Hills. They might be interested in the house if we want to sell. I even checked some listings around town.”

Stiles never really realized his dad would be so quick to say goodbye to the house, and even though he’d like to protest and say that he liked where he lived, his father was the one  still paying the bills. If Stiles had a place for himself, that was enough, after all Stiles didn’t really know what he wanted to do after he graduated high school. That was a whole can of worms he didn’t want to open anytime soon.

“What do you say?” His dad was slightly concerned about Stiles’ answer but still excited.

Stiles didn’t want to disappoint him.

“I’m okay with that. Just need a place for Roscoe,” Stiles told him. The Sheriff seemed surprised with the answer, but he reached over the table to put a hand on Stiles’ nape to squeeze him gently.

“We’ll find a perfect place for him, okay?”

Stiles nodded, and then the food arrived. 

The meal passed in a blur, with the Sheriff talking about some prospective properties they might move into, but Stiles wasn’t really paying attention. What he was thinking about was the fact that he might have to ward an entire new property, get his bearings on the surroundings and find a good place for Roscoe.

His mind only came online again when Stiles saw Derek from the corner of his eyes. It was such a surprise to see him at the diner that Stiles’s focus went solely to him. 

Derek walked to the counter to pick up some burgers he’d most likely ordered beforehand. For the shortest moment, Derek’s eyes went to Stiles and he nodded at him, sending a slight smile his way, much more guarded than the other day. 

When Derek picked up his food and turned around to leave the diner, Stiles wasn’t able to not follow him with his eyes. Outside it wasn’t dark yet so he could watch Derek walking towards his car. 

Derek stopped before he reached the Camaro as a woman came to talk to him. Unless Stiles used magic, he wouldn’t be able to listen in on their conversation and just the fact that he wanted to do so was enough for Stiles to tell himself to stop being creepy. 

His eyes still couldn’t help but slither Derek’s way just to see how much time he talked to that woman. The exchange lasted a few minutes but was enough to leave Stiles curious. 

With a parting smile, the woman left Derek behind and walked to the diner. Stiles tried not to be obvious in checking her out and, thankfully, the woman didn’t see him looking her way. He wasn’t able to pay attention to where she sat because his father started talking again and Stiles didn’t want the Sheriff to suspect anything. 

Stiles was curious, though.

-

“So, hunters are already gathering in town?” Peter asked when Derek told him about Kate Argent making herself known.

Derek hadn’t expected to see her again. It was only years later that he found out the substitute teacher was part of the Argent family from Beacon Hills, and that she most likely took after her family in her career of choice. He could smell hunters a mile away, but he certainly wasn’t expecting a visit from one, especially not one that seemed very concerned about his move back to Beacon Hills.

“I don’t know about that,” said Derek tentatively.

“Well, Kate and Gerard left town after the fire, as ominous as that sounds.” Peter didn’t seem to allow himself to inject emotion in that sentence. “Now they’re back right when we come to Beacon Hills.”

Derek stared at his uncle, hearing what he implied. It wasn’t hard to connect those facts, even though Chris swore that his family wasn’t involved in anything and the Sheriff confirmed the investigation ruled out arson. But for Derek, there had always been doubt.

“I think I’m going for a run,” Derek said, not wanting to face these truths right now. His uncle turned around and went to his room

Derek walked to the back of the house and left his clothes in the mudroom while he changed into his wolf skin. He always liked having a moment with his wolf because it freed his mind. Also, since they haven’t made a deal with someone to protect their house, Derek couldn’t really feel as safe as he’d like to be, so patrolling the area wasn’t a bad idea.

As he ran out of the house and into the woods Derek felt how empty the atmosphere around the property was. When there was magic involved, his wolf could feel the charged air around him and, even though it was an exercise in getting used to that, the wolf realized it was for their own protection. Now that there wasn’t any, Derek didn’t like it.

The woods were quiet that day, Derek only saw a raccoon running away from him and some birds. Staying out of the trails in this form was the best thing to do. He didn’t follow a path, just ran to one side and the other, and to no surprise, he ended up close to town, not too far from Stiles’ house.

Maybe it was wrong of him to try and get Stiles to help, especially if they had to hide from the Sheriff. The fact remained, though, that Derek didn’t know where else to get help and seeing as the kid was bound to be more powerful than Deaton he’d had his hopes set on the boy; of course it might not matter in the end as not even Claudia had been able to create miracles for the wolves.

He didn’t stay long around Stiles’ home, just enough to see Roscoe lifting his head to look at Derek when he passed by. If in the past the deer had given him nightmares, now there was some sort of wonder attached to its image. Derek didn’t know exactly why, but perhaps he’d seen worse things in life than a half-dead magical animal.

-

“Why is it that every day now, someone’s not coming to school?” Asked Stiles when they all sat down for lunch. Isaac was there today, but Erica was absent this time. Stiles looked at Boyd for an explanation, but his friend didn’t say a thing. Isaac just shrugged when Stiles looked at him.

“Mom said she had to be admitted to the hospital again,” Scott said from the side and Stiles didn’t need any further explanation. In fact, not even Jackson who made some awful jokes about their group said a thing. 

The mood at the table was blue for a moment, but then Allison started talking to Scott about her aunt that came back, and Isaac was explaining to Jackson why there seemed to have been a fight in his house, so Stiles chose the most interesting story to follow.

“It was just a crash on the TV,” Isaac said, but his eyes were just this side of shifty. “And dad dropped a chair down the stairs, so that’s why you heard all that noise.” Isaac wasn’t looking at anyone while he told them that, so it was hard not to feel like he was hiding something.

“Are you sure?” Jackson asked, his voice containing only some of its usual bite.

Isaac shrugged and that was that. Stiles didn't really know what to think about it, but he knew there was more to this story, though it wasn’t like he didn’t have it up there with the rest of his life.

After school, they had lacrosse training. Stiles wasn’t really interested in that, but since Scott was still dedicated to making the team, Stiles followed him into the field. To Stiles, the only thing worse than getting a regular beating three times a week was sitting on the bench all season.

At least Jackson wasn’t the one beating him anymore, after all, sharing a table with him would get awkward after that. But some of the other guys didn’t really care about him, and Stiles tried not to care about them either. He wasn’t allowed to use his powers on them, but if some of those guys tripped on the grass once or twice, no one would know.

It wasn’t like there was someone out there just regulating the use of magic at that scale.

When training ended, Scott took his bike to go to the vet clinic. He worked there four days a week, which was four days more than Stiles worked anywhere. In some of those days when he saw Scott running off to work, Stiles felt guilty because he wasn’t really helping at home, but he didn’t have the best luck when finding a part-time job.

His father wasn’t forcing him to find one, but sometimes, especially when his father talked about the house, Stiles would like to be able to help him more.

If only he could make money out of thin air...

Scott and Stiles said their goodbyes right after the showers, and since Stiles got the short straw that day and had to lock up all of the sport's paraphernalia, he was one of the last guys out of the locker rooms. In fact, most of the parking lot at the school was empty when he got out, only the Jeep was sitting there. 

On top of a pool of oil.

“Oh man, what happened now?” Stiles quickened his steps towards the car. There was no one out there. 

When Stiles got close to his Jeep, he didn’t even know what to do first. Although he knew enough magic to fix his car, Stiles couldn't very well do it right there where people could see. He had to get someone to tow the car to his house at least. But for that, Stiles would have to call his dad first to let him know since Stiles didn’t have any money to pay for that.

For a moment he wanted to bang his head on the hood.

Stiles didn’t get to do that because a car drove into the lot, and he turned his head to look at it. 

It was a Camaro. A black one. 

Stiles watched as the car made the bend and then came his way, stopping right in front of the Jeep. A window rolled down and Derek leaned out to look at Stiles. He was wearing shades.

“Need some help with that?” Derek asked with a grin on his face that made Stiles shiver on the inside just a tad.

“I guess?” Stiles lifted his shoulders helplessly. “I was just about to call my dad to see how he wants to get it towed because I can fix it back home.” 

Derek nodded to Stiles. “You’re good with cars, then?” He asked, proceeding to stroke the dashboard in a manner that was almost sexual, but Stiles didn't want to admit that.

“Well, you know, I-” it was getting ridiculous for him to just stammer the words out. “I can do a lot of stuff.” 

Derek’s grin only got bigger. “I bet.”

This was terrible. Stiles couldn’t begin to fathom the fact that Derek was making him hot all over and this seemed like the stupidest setting for that to happen. Derek probably was a flirt with anyone and Stiles just wasn’t able to deal with it. It was a good thing his father didn’t want Stiles to get to close to the Hales, otherwise, it would be hard not to embarrass himself in front of Derek.

Really hard.

“Why don’t you just see if you fix the leak in there and then I can call my uncle to bring his truck to get the Jeep home?”

The fact that Derek was looking earnest and gentle as he offered his help completely disarmed Stiles’ defenses once again. If his father knew he might blow a gasket, or something worse, but Stiles just didn’t have it in him to say no, neither did he want to.

“Would he come just to help me?” Stiles asked.

“He’s in town too, I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

Derek had his phone in hand, and Stiles just had to say the word.

“Okay, I’ll take the help.” 

That made Derek’s smile wider and the man just swiped something on the screen and then looked at his phone for a minute. 

“Done.” He pocketed the device and stared at Stiles. “Are you going to seal the leak?”

Stiles looked at him in confusion for a minute, as if he didn’t remember that Derek knew all about his powers and such. Stiles threw any pretense out the window and just looked around to see if there was anyone looking at him. Sealing a leak wasn’t too hard of a fix and the school lot was still empty, so he just put a hand on the hood of his car and sent out a pulse.

It was a simple spell, just a bit of energy that ran through the insides of the car to find where the leak was to seal it shut. If it was a problem in a piece of gear or fuse, it would find and deal with it, but Stiles’ father said more than once that he wasn’t allowed to take off without calling a tow truck. 

It happened once before, Stiles fixed the Jeep in the middle of the road before driving away, and in the next day, three people went by the station to tell him how the Sheriff’s kid was good with cars and should become a mechanic.

The Sheriff didn’t have an answer to that, so that was something they agreed upon.

In a few seconds, Stiles felt the pulse coming back to his hand, and the problem was solved. He took his hand from the hood and turned around, coming face to face with Derek, who seemed to have exited his car while Stiles was concentrated on the Jeep.

“All fixed up?” Asked Derek, leaning his hip on the Jeep as he put both hands in his pockets as if he needed to flex his biceps even more.

The shirt he wore was barely holding all of that inside, and Stiles had to admit, it terrified him - the possibility of Derek smelling anything on him. But all of Derek was too much.

“So,” Stiles swallowed the nervousness. He wanted to end the awkward silence, while he prayed for Derek’s uncle to come quickly. “How are you finding the town?”

Derek tilted his head to the side as if thinking about it.

“Not different from what I expected.”

“And what did you expect?” 

“Just the same Beacon Hills that was back then. It’s quaint in a way, quiet. Not really bustling with energy and movement. We’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime.” That last part almost felt like a confession, and a glimpse into Derek because for a moment his face became more guarded. Then the moment was gone and his smile came back at full force.

It was giving Stiles a bit of whiplash. It wasn’t like Derek was flat out lying to him, but some of his actions seemed strange. This excitement inside of Stiles dimmed a bit because although Derek was right beside him all smiles and flirtation, Stiles realized that perhaps it was a front for something he was hiding inside.

Stiles was about to ask something, he just didn’t know exactly what, when another car came into the parking lot. It was Peter, driving between the lines of the parking lot to reach where they were.

The brakes screeched when Peter stopped the car

“Someone needs a hand?” He asked when he opened his door.

“Hi,” Stiles greeted Peter, who looked at him with some suspicion in his face.

“Stiles here had a problem with the Jeep and I was passing by and offered some help.”

“Really, now?” Peter looked at his nephew like Derek had been up to no good, which wasn’t really promising for Stiles.

“I told Derek I could call a towing truck or something,” Stiles said, but Derek shook his head.

“Why would you, we have to help each other, right?” Derek put some emphasis on the ‘we’, and Stiles could take a guess as to what Derek really wanted from him.

“Let’s get going, then,” said Peter, unwilling to wait.

That was all the urging Stiles needed. With precision, Peter hooked the Jeep to his truck. They formed a small convoy, with Peter taking the lead, followed by Stiles and then Derek behind them. It would be hard for anyone in town not to take notice of those three cars one after the other, but Stiles was already grounded, it wasn’t like things could get any worse.

Unless he got home and found the cruiser parked in the driveway. But that thankfully didn’t happen. 

Peter parked right in front of Stiles’ house and got out of the truck to unhook the Jeep. Stiles left his car to thank Peter, and Derek came right behind because he apparently had to be there too. 

Stiles saw himself between the two Hales, but Roscoe came to the rescue.

Peter stepped back when the deer came to sniff at Stiles, but Derek stayed right there.

“I don’t even know how to thank you two for the help.” 

“No problem, Stiles. As I said, we have to help each other when we need to,” Derek said again.

Those words weren’t just thrown out there, Stiles knew. And he loathed being indebted to anyone.

“If you ever need anything...” Stiles left the offer out in the open.

He couldn’t imagine that Derek would take him up on it right then.

“Actually, I do need your help,” he opened with, and Stiles waited. His eyes became faded, and his face relaxed to a natural state instead of that open smile. “Could you teach me how to make wards? We’re having a hard time finding someone to help us protect the house.” 

When Derek touched on the subject of protection, it seemed like the real man behind this façade came out. 

“You know what happened in the past,” he added.

Stiles looked from Derek to Peter. Both Hales were paying close attention to Stiles.

“My dad doesn’t want me involved in any supernatural stuff, you know?” Stiles said, and right then he saw the way Derek’s face feel. “But I can teach you how to make some stuff if you want.”

With that, some light came back to Derek’s face, and it was hard to control the way Stiles' heart tripped on itself inside his chest.

“Are you sure?” Derek asked.

“If you can keep a secret,” Stiles added, and Derek agreed with a nod.

“I’ll give you my number and we can decide on a day?” Derek suggested. 

Stiles was ready to search his pockets for a phone when he remembered he didn’t have one.

He frowned. “I am… I don’t have my phone with me, but if you give me your number I’m going to call you.” 

“Why don’t you give me yours and I'll call you?” Derek offered his phone for Stiles.

Well, there was that. Stiles had to tell the truth, then.

“I’m in a bit of a situation: my father actually has my phone, so I’d rather you not call me.”

“Oh.”

Peter came forward with a piece of paper and a number on it, surprising the two of them. He looked at Stiles directly.

“I take it the both of you are going to circle around this until the Sheriff comes home, so I’m taking the liberty of giving you my nephew’s number. Call him, Stiles. And you’re welcome,” he said that last bit to Derek.

Peter finished his little speech and turned around, going back to his car and driving away a minute later, leaving the two of them right there.

“Forgive my uncle,” Derek told Stiles.

“No problem. And thank you again. I don’t think it’ll be a problem to help you out, so expect a call any day now.”

Derek took a step back and put his hands in his pockets. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Stiles confirmed with his head, even though it definitely was a problem to help Derek

Derek gave Stiles a mock-salute before turning around and getting into the Camaro. When he took off from the curb Derek made sure to lift his hand in a partial wave before driving away. Stiles couldn’t help but do the same.

Quickly he lowered his hand though and glanced around to see if anyone was looking at him. He saw two curtains closing in the houses of his street, and Stiles knew his father would end up getting a word of this. 

The fact was that he made a promise. And he was going to keep it.

Roscoe grunted to Stiles as if he wanted to say ‘you better do’. Or maybe he wanted Stiles to get off the curb. Or just to get a grip.

“I know, man. I know,” was Stiles’ answer before he turned around.


	4. Chapter 4

Derek couldn’t help but feel somewhat guilty for trying so hard to get Stiles’ help. It was important to protect their den and Derek never really had to act like the alpha of a pack since his uncle and him lived pretty much by themselves all this time, but Derek had to start somewhere. 

If he could find ways to keep this house more guarded from the world maybe things would have a better ending than in the past. It wasn’t like he expected someone to come and burn down their house again after all, unless there was a direct threat coming their way, there was no reason for that to happen.

As far as he knew the investigation in the past had gone nowhere. Derek thought, since the Sheriff’s wife had perished in the fire, the man would find a way to put someone behind bars, but nothing was found. It seemed like for such a cataclysmic event in their lives, the aftermath was severely understated.

When he got home that day, Derek stopped outside and looked at the house before going in. It was a perfect replica of his old home, but Derek hardly felt any attachment to it now. In fact, the one thing he was attached to the most in life was his uncle, because for all that he’d done in the past, and only Derek knew of it, they only had each other.

Cora was also his family, but she’d distanced herself from them and perhaps it was for the better. She promised to visit in the future when they were better established, but for now it was just Derek and Peter. 

And soon some more wards for protection.

“Are you going to guard the house from the outside like a dog?” Asked Peter from the living room as Derek stayed out the door just looking at it. 

Derek huffed out a laugh and went inside.

He left the keys by the bowl beside the front door and took off his shoes. These simple gestures made this house feel more lived in, but the space was still very sparse and empty, which for two bachelors like them wasn’t a problem. Though they wouldn’t be throwing any bashes for the time being.

Derek snorted to himself even considering that.

Peter had always resorted to seedy joints when he wanted to have fun, as he said it was better not to leave a trail of broken hearts, although Derek could hardly see his uncle able to give some love to people now. Derek on the other hand was different when it came to that. He had some hookups and in every new pack they passed by there was always someone willing to have a night of fun, even though sometimes they wanted more.

Derek never wanted more. It was hard to know the exact reason why, even for himself. Perhaps it was the fact that he didn’t feel like anywhere was home, especially because in this short time he was back in Beacon Hills, he already felt more at ease than he’d ever felt before on his travels.

And those encounters with Stiles made Derek realize that perhaps it had been a long time since he gave himself time to enjoy someone’s company. However, as fun as it was to see Stiles flush and stammer when Derek was around him, he didn’t really feel all that comfortable in pursuing anything. Especially if he didn’t want that to cause problems to Stiles.

“Did you score?” Asked Peter from the couch. It was kind of funny how the man was always either reading the newspaper or drinking wine when he was at home. Perhaps they needed to buy a TV for him.

“What do you mean by that?” Derek walked up the stairs to change into some more comfortable clothes, after all, he put on some skinny jeans just because he wanted to execute the plan he made that day.

Petter huffed in annoyance. “The boy is clearly attracted to you, didn’t you at least enjoy some more of his sweet joviality?”

Derek frowned, shaking his head at his uncle. “Don’t be creepy, Peter. Stiles is most likely underage.” 

Although Derek hadn’t done anything too bad, he hoped to keep it that way. 

“Well, I don’t see a problem when they say yes. But you’re too much of a gentleman to impose yourself, I do know that.” Derek heard Peter shaking his newspaper, as if he was ready to go back to reading. “Don’t ever lose that, Derek.”

With those words conversation was over. Derek spent some time thinking about what his uncle said as he changed clothes and then got ready for a run. They had way too much time in that house without a pack or a life, so Derek knew soon he’d have to find something to do.

For now he’d enjoy the woods again.

-

Stiles straddled the line between healthy and delicious food when it came to making meals for the Sheriff. However, that night in particular he was way past the other side: the bad side for his father’s health, but the one most likely to melt the man just the right amount for Stiles to get away with something.

He still hadn’t gotten his phone back, so the rest of the afternoon was completely silent for Stiles. He spent some time with his mother’s books reading about protection spells and wards, trying to find what was easy to teach Derek, but also something that would protect them well.

Stiles knew it was a lost battle on his side whether to just consider teaching Derek how to place wards or do something more for him. He couldn’t help but think about the past and how even with his mother’s help the Hale family died. He wouldn’t forgive himself if something of that magnitude happened again on his watch. Stiles decided he was going to teach Derek some wards, but he would make some powerful ones himself to protect them as well, even if it was just for his peace of mind.

At least, in that regard he’d have some peace of mind, because it just took hearing the cruiser parking in front of the house for Stiles to lose all of his cool. He tried to control his nervous dance around the stove as he made dinner. 

The Sheriff left the car and took his time walking back home. Stiles had already parked the Jeep in the garage and checked out to see if there was anything left to be done, but it was just a simple leak in the engine, after all.

At the back of his mind, Stiles wondered if he should go to a mechanic and have the car serviced to see if he was at risk of it happening again.

When the front door opened, Stiles held his breath. The Sheriff came in, still carrying his badge and belt, but he started to unhook it just as he stepped into the house. He closed the door with a kick, and Stiles had half of his attention on the food in front of him while the other half was completely concentrated in his father.

“It smells good in here,” commented the Sheriff, raising his head to look at Stiles. “Special occasion?” He asked, and there was a complete lack of suspicion in his face, much less discontentment.

Did the people of Beacon Hills for once not interfere in their life? Was that too good to be true? Stiles wasn’t counting on that yet, but he had to admit his heart suddenly got filled with hope and Stiles could chalk up dinner to a burst of hunger for greasy food and his dad would never know. 

Hopefully, he’d never know about other things, too.

“Is this because I asked you not to get involved with the Hales and you did it anyway?” the Sheriff inquired casually.

And there went all of Stiles’ hopes down the drain.

“I’m-” Stiles tried to come up with something, but lying again wasn’t the best thing for him to do. He left the pan where the meatballs were cooking and turned to his father, who had his arms crossed over his chest as his gaze landed on Stiles.

The Sheriff raised his brows.

“I’m sorry?” Stiles tried, and the Sheriff just shook his head. “The jeep got a leak and Derek helped me get it home.”

“Funny how your car broke down and Derek of all people was the one that came to help you.” The Sheriff tilted his head to the side.

Stiles didn’t know what to say to that, but if he looked at it too close, there were some cracks in that story. A leak in the Jeep and Derek came to help with Peter in tow, all of that without Stiles having to call for anyone. If he was anymore suspicious about that, he’d think Derek had something to do with the oil leaking from his Jeep.

“I don’t know, dad. Derek just offered some help and I wasn’t going to say no. If I did I’d have to interrupt you at work.”

The Sheriff looked at Stiles with some disappointment in his eyes.

“But they only helped you, nothing more? Because I also got the information that there was an exchange of something, and even Peter Hale was involved.”

Now it was Stiles’ turn to get annoyed. “Did they actually relate to you word-for-word our conversation too?”

The Sheriff seemed taken aback with Stiles’ reaction. He put a hand on his neck and breathed deeply.

Stiles sighed in frustration.

“I know things get out of hand sometimes,” said the Sheriff as he stepped toward Stiles. He seemed frustrated too but also hiding something. “I told you to stay away from the Hales. I don’t know if we can trust them.” 

He left it at that and Stiles wasn’t sure if his father was telling the truth or if he just wanted to throw Stiles off the trail. In the same way, Stiles didn’t know if he should tell his dad about what Derek wanted from him. 

On the one hand, if the Sheriff knew right then he wouldn't let Stiles help Derek, but if he knew later on he might get mad again.

It was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

The Sheriff was still looking at him like he expected Stiles to explain what the exchange meant.

“Derek gave me his number in case we need help someday.” Stiles at least kept it not too far from the truth.

“Just that?”

“What did you think he was going to do, ask for my hand or something?” Stiles threw that out there, making the Sheriff frown. Stiles rolled his eyes and went back to the stove. “If you are so inclined to doubt me, perhaps you might want to call him and ask for a better explanation.”

Stiles didn’t wait to see his father’s face when he said that, but he was reasonably sure the Sheriff wouldn’t go with it. 

For a moment both of them said nothing, and Stiles just concentrated on making the spaghetti and meatballs he knew his father liked. After a minute, the Sheriff left the room in silence, probably to change clothes and freshen up before the meal. 

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe after that, his dad wasn’t going to touch on that subject.

Their meal was a bit on the silent side, because, although this wasn’t really a fight, neither Stiles nor the Sheriff seemed talkative. Stiles didn’t even ask when he was going to get his phone back, already settling for not getting it anytime soon. 

His father ate the food with gusto and, at least, on that front they didn’t have any disagreement that night. Stiles took his plate to the sink right after he finished eating as the Sheriff said he’d take care of the dishes.

Stiles walked into the living room and turned the TV on. There was a replay of a ball game, but he didn’t really pay attention to it, focusing on reading one of his mother’s journals.

Unfortunately he wasn’t able to get much reading done while trying to seem mad at his father. It didn’t help his case of wanting to be treated as an adult sometimes, but Stiles didn’t care. 

A part of him was ecstatic that someone wanted him to do something with magic and thought that Stiles was capable of it, because while his father never really treated Stiles’ powers as something he was prohibited of using, there was nothing for Stiles to actually do with them. 

And Derek offered him just that.

Sometimes, Stiles had dreamt about a world where he could work with magic, where this would be a field for him to pursue, because although Stiles liked the idea of becoming a cop like his father and saving people, or doing that in the romanticized version of the job, magic was what he loved. His father never treated that as a slight against him, but Stiles had a special connection to his mom, and he’d love to explore that more. 

Doing magic now was a way for him to get close to her.

Stiles tried to read some pages of her journal to see if he could work on protection spells and  create something, but his attention span was shot that day. He kept hearing every noise his father made in the kitchen until he finished there and came to the living room with Stiles.

“Watching the game?” The Sheriff asked to make some conversation, although he could see Stiles had a book in his lap.

“It was there when I turned the TV on.” Stiles shrugged as the Sheriff sat on the other side of the couch.

Stiles handed him the remote, but instead of changing channels, the Sheriff muted the TV and left the remote between them.

“Stiles?” He called him. 

Stiles raised his head. “Yeah, dad?” 

“You know I don’t want you to feel like I’m keeping you away from the world or something. I’m just worried.” And it was easy to see that worry in the lines of his face. The Sheriff was older now, but Stiles knew most of his wrinkles weren’t only because of time.

“I get that, dad.” Stiles sighed. “But you know sometimes, it’s just too much being the only person that knows of magic around, being the only one that can talk about that stuff. And I’m not even asking you if I can tell my friends because I know what magic can do to your life.”

The absence of his mother wasn’t exactly related to magic, but also it kind of was. At least that was how he felt about it.

“I’m sorry, Stiles. I wish I could help you with that.” And the Sheriff did seem sorry.

Stiles didn’t leave the man hanging. 

“And I’m sorry I still don’t do all the things you ask me to.”

To that, the Sheriff just huffed a small laugh. “Sometimes I know it’s too much, but if I don’t set too many rules you don’t have much of those to break.”

Even Stiles had to smile at that one.

“But for real, dad, why don’t you want me to even talk with the Hales? Is it something that they did?” Stiles sobered up when he asked about that, and the Sheriff became more serious.

He waited a beat before saying anything to Stiles. There were some warring emotions on his face, that much was easy to see. Stiles only had no idea why.

“I don’t think there’s anything to suspect about the Hales, per se. But in all my years on the force, and having the hunters coming and going from town, though that diminished a lot since  _ that  _ happened, I heard so many stories and sometimes different versions of them, that it’s hard for me to discern exactly what’s the truth and what’s just something made up.

“It feels like the supernatural world is full of people just waiting for the right moment to do the wrong thing and I just get the idea that the hunters want anyone that lives on the brink between these worlds to believe in their stories, even when they aren’t true.”

The Sheriff was silent for a moment. Stiles kept quiet because he didn’t want this conversation to end. It wasn’t always that his father opened up like that.

“If your mother was here she’d know what to say or who to trust, she was always good with that. But now…” The Sheriff shook his head. 

His hand reached for the remote, making it clear that he’d like this conversation to be over, but Stiles was quick to say something before he pressed the button.

“But dad, you know I have powers like mom had. I, too, can use them to know when people are telling the truth if I want.”

The Sheriff rolled the remote in his hand, but his eyes held some hardness Stiles couldn’t explain.

“I know Stiles, but how did those powers help her in the end?”

For that he didn’t have an answer.

The Sheriff unmuted the TV eventually.

-

When next week came around and Stiles finally got his phone back the first thing he did was add Derek’s number to it, but he hesitated before sending a message. Not that Stiles wouldn’t do that eventually, but he wanted to be absolutely sure that he’d go against his father’s wishes, and that he’d deal with the eventual fall out of that.

In the meantime, he put his mind on other things, such as Isaac coming to school having to explain once more to Jackson about the noise in their house. It was already the third or fourth time Jackson, who lived right across from Isaac, asked about that and Isaac always came up with a story about the TV or his dad being clumsy with the furniture.

The fact was that the entire table was somewhat unsure about the veracity of those stories he was telling, but it wasn’t like they were going to explicitly say that Isaac was lying. Scott was the one worried the most, but he was way too good of a person to doubt whatever Isaac said. That’s why Jackson decided to come to Stiles with that.

It was just after the final bell and Stiles was at his locker putting in some of the books he didn’t want to take home when Jackson and Lydia stopped right behind him. Instead of saying anything, Jackson just cleared his throat.

When Stiles saw that it was him, he rolled his eyes, but closed his locker and turned around.

“What do I owe the pleasure of being graced with your presence,” said Stiles jokingly with a bit of a curtsy.

Lydia wasn’t really looking at him, paying more attention to her phone, but Jackson huffed out a breath before saying anything.

“I wanted to talk to you about Isaac,” he said. And yes, it was something unheard of - Jackson actually caring about other people, but the guy wasn’t heartless.

And perhaps he saw more than he let on, so his worry for Isaac was justified in a way.

“What do you want to talk about him?” Asked Stiles as he looked both ways. It wouldn’t do them any good if Isaac was around, or Scott.

“You do know those stories are bullshit, right?”

Stiles shrugged. “I can’t say I have any proof of that.”

At those words Jackson seemed to deflate, but he steeled his resolve. “Either way, I know what I heard and what I saw.”

“So you did see something,” commented Stiles, showing some interest.

“Yeah.” Jackson nodded, but he stopped to think for a minute there. “It was some weeks ago. I was in my room and my window opens to the street. I don’t know if it matters much in the grand scheme of things, but I was paying attention to their house for that one moment and I saw Isaac rushing past the window and then something flying through the air after him. A moment later his father passed by and closed the drapes.”

Stiles could definitely attest that this was not surprising and it confirmed some of his suspicions.

“You think his father has been doing that for long?”

Jackson confirmed with his head. “And all those stories about hitting the furniture or tripping down the stairs, we know that’s bullshit.”

“But you also know you can’t really prove any of that, right?” Said Lydia without taking her eyes off her phone.

Jackson seemed annoyed with her comment, but Stiles had to agree with her.

“She’s right. Just your word won’t be enough to start anything, especially if Isaac doesn’t want to.”

“But what if something worse happens?” Jackson asked, clearly irritated with this situation.

It was a surprise for Stiles how much Jackson cared, for sure.

“I don’t know, man. I can ask my dad about this and how we could proceed in a very hypothetical way, but you know things can get tricky, especially because Isaac is still a minor.”

“And you are not completely sure that this is something that happens regularly,” added Lydia, now looking up. “For all we know it was one time and-”

“Actually four in the last weeks,” Jackson chimed in, but Lydia didn’t stop.

“Either way, we can’t really barge into their house and ‘free’ Isaac from there.” She looked at Jackson, who seemed ready to do exactly that, and Stiles wondered why there was this relationship between Isaac and Jackson, because it never seemed like they were good friends at school. “What we can do is talk to him, see if he needs help, try to find a way not to fight with him and his father, because that could complicate things,” she added.

Jackson breathed deeply and nodded. 

“I think this is the best we can do for now,” Stiles agreed. “I’ll talk to dad about this and you, Jackson, can take notice if something like that happens again.”

Jackson confirmed with his head. “I’ll do that. Thanks, Stilinski.”

“You’re welcome,” answered Stiles, but he didn’t know exactly what this feeling inside of him now was. Maybe it was some kind of kinship with Jackson.

He still felt weird.

-

Derek had been expecting a call for some days now, but Stiles still seemed to be hesitating from getting in contact with Derek. If he took much more time, Derek was going to find him again and, though that wasn’t exactly the best thing he could do, after all the warnings from the Sheriff, Derek was afraid of going unprotected for too long.

Peter was doing rounds in the forest day in and day out and sometimes it seemed like he was hiding the real reason why he was doing that, but Derek suspected it was because Peter wanted to get to know the area again, to get used to Beacon Hills. Derek himself was finding some challenges in doing that, but he thought he was doing better than his uncle.

At least he didn’t start to shift every time he sensed someone coming up the driveway or everytime a hiker was around their house. Derek did have better senses because he was the Alpha, always was able to feel the emotions of those around and to know if they were a threat or not.

However, that day when he sensed a car coming up the driveway Derek was unsure as to what to expect from that person. It was a good thing they didn’t have neighbors, otherwise, people were going to start talking about the Sheriff coming over every other day.

Derek closed the book he was reading and walked out to the porch. 

Keeping his arms at his side, trying to seem approachable, Derek wondered for a minute if Stiles backed down on his offer to help and sicced the Sheriff on them, but it didn’t feel like the man came here to fight.

At least Derek hoped so.

“Good afternoon, Sheriff.”

“Afternoon, Derek.” 

The Sheriff came up the steps and stopped almost in front of Derek. There was an obvious powerplay in there, even if it was something almost unnoticeable from the outside. The Sheriff in his own way was also an alpha - to his family, to the police force, and somewhat to the town.

“Everything alright?” Derek asked.

The Sheriff looked at him, as if analyzing Derek. Listening to the man’s heart didn’t really reveal his intentions, but it showed Derek that there was some strain in his heartbeats, and it was possible to guess his age and work were taking a toll on the man.

“I hope so.” The Sheriff looked to the woods for a moment, before returning to Derek. “Stiles told me you helped him the other day. I have to thank you for that, saved me some good bucks.”

The Sheriff dipped his head to Derek, who repeated the gesture.

“It was nothing. I was just passing by and-”

“Decided to cause some damage to Stiles’ car just to get there to help him?” shot the Sheriff.

Derek was good at lying, but he couldn’t control the stutter in his voice just this once, which was enough to implicate him further.

“I-we didn’t… I don’t know why we would do anything like that. I’m sure you know Stiles’ car is an older model, and those things happen every now and then.”

The sheriff hummed. Derek could see on his face that he wasn’t fooled, but he was also a man of the law and wouldn’t go accusing people of something he couldn’t prove they did.

For a beat, the two of them stared at one another. Derek knew a challenge when he was faced with it and it felt like a pivotal moment for his stay in Beacon Hills to have the Sheriff at his side, only he had no idea where they stood right now.

Since the Sheriff didn’t have supernatural reflexes and senses he was the one that gave up on the staring match, closing his eyes and sighing in frustration.

“I hope I’m not making the wrong decision in placing trust in you, Derek.”

“I hope I’ll prove that to you,” Derek said.

The Sheriff stayed another moment in silence, but his eyes were focused on Derek, as if he wanted to try and look past the surface.

“You want something from Stiles and I’m pretty sure I know what it is. I’m also sure that even if I say no to everything, Stiles will do whatever he wants, especially if he thinks lives are at stake.”

It almost sounded like an accusation and Derek couldn’t say a thing to defend himself; it was true after all.

“But I’ll say something to you, Derek. My son is the only thing I have and I’ll fight for him to hell and back. If something happens to him because of you, I won’t hesitate to find someone that can track you down to give you a fitting punishment, because I know the law won’t be enough.”

Derek now couldn’t really say anything other than a quiet ‘yes, sir’, even though he wasn’t going to assume responsibility right then. 

He was expecting the Sheriff to leave him like that, but the man surprised him in staying. He sighed again and then seemed to let go of the tension plaguing his body.

“I actually came here to talk to Peter,” he said.

“He’s out in the woods now,” announced Derek a bit louder to see if Peter could head, but the man was probably too far now.

Even the Sheriff looked around as if he expected Peter to come out of the woods, but nothing happened.

“I’ll make sure to send him to see you, Sheriff.”

“If you could I’ll be glad.” The Sheriff looked once more to Derek and then lowered his head as he descended the steps.

Derek stayed on the porch just watching the Sheriff get in the cruiser and drive away. It almost seemed timed how, right when the car disappeared into the woods, Derek’s phone pinged with a message.

**Hey Derek, it’s Stiles. Can we talk?**

-

That afternoon it seemed as if Roscoe couldn’t find a way to settle down, but maybe he just picked up on what Stiles felt. After he finally found the courage to talk to Derek about their plans and decided to meet in the woods. He was looking forward to that, but also completely unsure as to what to expect from it.

Stiles selected some books on wards and protection spells. He wanted to try some of the things his mother was really passionate about, trying to emulate her teachings into his practice. 

For the first time, it felt like his magic was useful, a tool to help people and not just something he used to stave off boredom.

When the clock hit five, he left the house with Roscoe in tow. Derek told Stiles to walk into the woods and wait for him because Derek would find him eventually. 

The waiting part was nothing, really, because as soon as Stiles left the area where the woods and town met at the edge, Derek came walking from behind a tree, this time loud enough for Roscoe and Stiles to hear.

As soon as Stiles saw the man his heart got a little funny, but Stiles chalked that up to his teenage hormones giving a last hurrah, or something. Derek was a fine specimen, no need to deny that, but Stiles had so little success in his love life so far, he didn’t feel like acting on any of his urges anymore. He liked to look at pretty things, but doing anything beyond that was on another level.

“Hi,” Derek said a few yards away from Stiles. His eyes went from him to Roscoe and back.

“Hi. Ready to learn some stuff?” Stiles could  _ hear  _ the awkwardness in his voice, because he was the one that was supposed to teach Derek magic, but he had never had to do that before. 

“You sure I’ll be able to do anything?” Derek asked. He seemed to feel the awkwardness in the air too because Derek put his hands in the pockets of his pants and shifted on the balls of his feet.

“I have no idea,” Stiles lifted his shoulder but gave a little laugh. Derek smiled at him.

Stiles’ heartbeat spiked again, and Derek’s eyes focused on Stiles’ chest as if he was trying to listen to it. Stiles didn’t want Derek to keep paying attention to that, though.

“So, um, I’m sure you’re pretty much interested in protection wards, but I actually want to try and teach you something easier before we move onto that, okay?” Stiles suggested as he sent Roscoe away with a flick of his hand and then put the books he brought on top of a rock on the ground.

“That’s fine with me.” Derek still had his hands in his pockets.

“Well, there are lots of different types of magic, and pretty much anyone can do something if they have the will to do it - which in hindsight seems like a simple way of achieving magical things, but it’s really all about that.” Stiles didn’t really rehearse that speech, but he also didn’t want to just treat magic as something you could learn in one minute. 

It was an integral part of who he was, he couldn’t just think of it as means to an end.

“You say everyone can do anything with magic?” Derek asked, mildly curious.

“Yes. And no.” Stiles pointed to a tree in front of them. “If I ask you now to set this tree on fire with your mind, would you be able to do it?”

As soon as he said that Derek seemed taken aback by the question, and Stiles thought he might have gone the wrong way with his example, but now it was out there anyway.

“No,” said Derek simply.

“There’s your answer, then.”

“But you also said yes,” Derek reminded Stiles.

“I know. But I also said no.” Stiles smiled to himself watching the way Derek’s eyebrows went up as he stared toward the tree. 

Stiles couldn’t know if he was trying to put the tree on fire with his mind or if he was just thinking.

“In emissary culture, there’s this belief that with will we can do lots of things, which is not far from the truth. However, there’s this inner power that everyone has and it can be small enough to only be able to light a match with your fingers or big enough to put out the sun.”

At that Derek seemed surprised.

“Would that be possible?”

“I have no idea,” Stiles said honestly. “I can’t do it, but I never really tried, to be honest.”

Stiles wasn’t even lying, which Derek might have caught with his senses. He did look at Stiles with some kind of fear though he tried to hide.

“But you are a magic being, Derek. You can always dip your fingers into that well and use your powers. Werewolves are strong creatures, and even simple betas can do a lot of magic.”

“What kind of magic can alphas do?” Derek asked. His face wasn’t showing anything, but Stiles wanted to know why that question. Perhaps the answer was right in front of him.

“A lot of magic, if you want to know.”

Derek nodded. “What do you want me to try?”

Stiles thought for a moment, looking around the woods.

“We should start simple. You’re going to do some carvings and we’ll see what’s going to happen.”

Stiles proceeded to explain in what way he was going to test Derek. He wanted Derek to carve a simple rune in the bark of a tree. It was a heritage from the studies his mother did in Norwegian and Icelandic cultures and Stiles showed Derek the simple drawing of the rune to make on the trunk.

For a werewolf with claws that seemed simple enough, but Derek took his time to get the drawing right. The healing rune was supposed to help any kind of being, but Stiles had tried it on trees when he was a kid. One of the first things his mother made him do was that, carve the healing rune in wood and then throw fire at it to see how the wood would heal itself.

“I think it should look like this?” Derek said when he finished, taking a look at the book and then raising his eyes to Stiles.

He walked closer to the tree to inspect the drawing. 

Stiles nodded. “That’s about it.”

“So what should I do now?” Asked Derek. “Is there some other thing we have to do before it works?”

“Not really. This one is a simple rune and after you draw it you have to fully believe in its properties and it’ll work.” The explanation now came to Stiles as something an emissary would say, but then, their teaching derived from the same source as witches.

“So I just have to believe…” said Derek mostly to himself, pensively.

Stiles didn’t really wait to do his next part, he just pointed a hand to the rune on the tree and shot fire from the tip of his fingers, just a small flame, enough to burn the bark and try to erase the inscription. It was the same thing his mother did with his rune back then, and Stiles remembered like it was yesterday how the tree grew around the charred edges and tattooed his rune on the bark forever.

“Wow,” whispered Derek and Stiles couldn’t help but feel good about impressing a werewolf.

When he put the fire out the rune was all but burned away in a black mess.

“So what now?” Derek asked.

“If you managed to to do it right, it should start doing something about...now.” And just as Stiles said that, the tree seemed to come alive, but in such a small and imperceptive way someone that wasn’t watching up close would never see it.

When the healing process was over, it wouldn’t look like magic had touched the tree, but that time had carved it with the help from the elements of nature. The charred part was being pushed behind new bark that was slowly extending over the burned area. Moving at the speed of a snail, but still growing and growing.

“It’s covering it,” uttered Derek in wonder.

“Yes, it is,” Stiles confirmed. “Looks like you have some powers.”

In that moment the man turned to Stiles and smiled. It looked like the both of them were kind of partners in crime, because they were doing something that was somewhat forbidden. But Stiles never before knew he liked to help people find their inners powers, help them discover how simple and amazing magic was and how it was something everybody could do.

In a couple of minutes most of the burned area was covered in new tree, and only some parts of the rune were visible, after all Derek didn’t really carve that deep. He seemed to have a good amount of power, maybe not enough to all alone protect his house with wards, but then Stiles didn’t think he’d let the man do it all alone. 

If he started this he would see it through to the end.

“Well, you seem to have some mojo working inside of you, so let’s go for some harder stuff,” Stiles announced.

Derek didn’t read too much into those words, but Stiles felt like cringing inside at the innuendo that only made sense to him. The moment passed quickly, though, and soon enough he was teaching Derek a few more simple spells.

They worked until the sun started to set. 

Stiles had never before felt like hee and his powers mattered this much.

-

“Dad, I want to ask you about something,” Stiles said that night when they were sitting at the table. 

Even though he’d thought he’d barely managed to run home before his father got back, Stiles had still gotten dinner started and had time for a quick shower before the cruiser parked in front of the house. Stiles still felt giddy on the inside from Derek’s childlike wonder at everything he did with magic; ,Stiles had been somewhat intimidated by him at first and unsure of exactly how much he would be able to teach Derek, but it seemed like they made a pretty good pair and the pride swelling in his chest as Derek had followed his instructions had been heady.

The Sheriff nodded at Stiles as he inhaled his pasta.

“Some kids at school were asking me the other day about what we can do with someone that’s, um, possibly being abused by their parents.” At that the Sheriff paid more attention to Stiles, and Stiles wanted to skirt around the truth of it, but his father was good at smelling bullshit. “Not like, sexual stuff, but just hitting them and throwing things. How much of that can be categorized as abuse?”

Stiles’ dad was in thought for a moment.

“This is just hypothetical?” He asked. 

Stiles confirmed with a nod of his head. 

Even though there was some suspicion on his father’s face, he humored Stiles after he chugged down the food with some water.

“It’s sometimes a fine line between what we can consider proper abuse, but when it happens it’s hard to really hide and pretend it’s something else. It doesn’t really depend only on the police or Social Services to do their jobs and protect children from abuse, but it’s hard when we can’t really get inside the house.

“There are different ways we can categorize child abuse, but the most common are violent and sexual. But not only that, emotional abuse, neglect, and maltreatment are also child abuse, so there’s a big umbrella that covers a lot of things.”

“But how do you know when it’s just, let’s say, parenting and when it’s abuse?” Stiles asked. He, more than anyone, could remember the times he and his father fought and even when he got some slaps on the backside when he’d been a kid.

However, he couldn’t really see that as abuse, because they were isolated and not harmful to him, although it was hard to see how making use of violence could be good to any child’s wellbeing.

“As I said, it’s difficult sometimes for us to write something as abuse when the family seems to live a good life, when the parents seem to love their children, and when the children still love their parents.” The Sheriff sighed. “But in the same way, that might be the only way they are used to love, maybe those kids never learned differently, so it’s hard to break from that pattern and find help.”

Stiles nodded.

“Do you know of anyone that would need help?” The Sheriff asked, and Stiles shook his head right away, perhaps too hastily, but the Sheriff didn’t ask anything more.

“Not really,” Stiles added.

“But you know if there is someone that might need help, they can always come talk to me at the station, my door is always open.”

“I know that, dad.”

“Good.” The sheriff nodded. Then he looked at Stiles and, perhaps, saw what Stiles himself had thought about before. “Do you think I was a bad parent, son?”

“No dad, I never-” Stiles shook his head and spoke at the same time, but the Sheriff lifted a hand and halted him.

“I’m not asking you to reassure me, because I know I wasn't the best dad in the world. I did some wrong things, but I also know I did some right, otherwise, you wouldn’t be who you are today.”

Stiles nodded in confirmation and, this time, he waited a moment before speaking.

“I won’t say I didn’t deserve maybe a slap or two in the butt, dad. I was annoying as hell when I was a kid.” To that, the Sheriff nodded and smiled. “But we don’t know why we have to be hit when we are kids. We don't understand why our parents have to hurt us and, though sometimes it’s needed, I keep thinking that maybe some other kids don’t have the chance to understand why it happened.”

The Sheriff reached a hand towards Stiles, squeezing him when Stiles offered his

“I’m sorry if it felt that way, but I hope I gave you all that you needed to understand it. Maybe you can be a better parent than I was in the future.”

“Whoa, there. Still too young to have a little Stiles running around the house.”

The Sheriff laughed. “Let’s just say I agree with that.”

They’d be alright, Stiles knew. As they always were.

They didn’t touch on the subject for the rest of the dinner, but Stiles couldn’t help but feel like he’d peaked his dad’s curiosity with his question. At least they cleared the air about the two of them because Stiles didn’t want his dad to think for a moment that he had been traumatized as he grew up. In a way, he had been, of course, not because of his father, but because of the fire and the tragic amount of deaths around him. 

Anyway, Stiles went to school the next day with something to talk to Jackson about, but he didn’t see him until lunch and then he didn’t want to talk to him about that, especially in front of Isaac. Stiles, however, couldn’t help but check Isaac out and try to find some signs of what Jackson alluded was happening.

On the surface, Stiles couldn’t see anything, but he did remember that one time Isaac came to school with a black eye. He never remembered paying attention to him in the locker room, because most guys were streaking around naked and it was hard to hide anything without clothes.

In between all that staring, he tried to keep up with the conversation going on at the table. It seemed to be another round of ‘we don’t like our families’ starring Allison and her aunt, but Stiles wasn’t really there for that.

At least until someone kicked him under the table.

He didn’t make a sound, but looked to see who was the culprit. Only Erica was looking at him with a confused frown on her face.

“What’s your problem?” She asked. Stiles was ready to chuck that same question at her, but then Erica jerked her head at Isaac, and Stiles bit back his words.

“Nothing,” he said a moment later. Scott glanced his way, but Stiles just shook his head and Scott turned back to Allison and Lydia as they discussed what they didn’t like about not having their privacy.

Stiles let himself think just one minute about that, and how he never really had a problem with it. In fact, he’d like to have more people in his house, only if it would help him not feel as alone as he did while he grew up, but everyone had their problems and, especially that day, those thoughts were Stiles’ least important ones.

He frowned as he looked back to Erica, not wanting to say anything at the table, so he resorted to his phone. Instead of messaging her, though, Stiles sent one to Jackson.

**We need to talk.**

In a minute Jackson looked at his phone, but didn’t even turn towards Stiles, who’d have to remind himself to congratulate Jackson for being good at one thing for once.

**After last period at your locker.**

Stiles confirmed with a yes and then put his phone down, but in a second it vibrated with another text. He turned his phone around to see a notification from Erica.

**What am I missing?**  Her message asked. Stiles thought for a moment what lie he was going to spin, but he didn’t know if he wanted that. Erica saw him looking at Isaac, and she cared about him too, so Stiles didn’t want to leave her behind on this. Maybe she could even help them some way.

**Let’s talk at my locker later,** sent Stiles. She checked the message and then raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing.

It was a good thing she kept quiet because it was just in time for Allison to turn her attention to Stiles.

“Did you remember when my aunt was a teacher here?” She frowned at him, and Stiles just had zero ideas about what she was talking about.

“Why would I?” 

“Maybe I’m just mixing stuff up. I thought you talked once about her being a teacher and that there was some kid that didn’t like her and-” Allison stopped right then because it seemed like she lost herself in her own story, but Stiles suddenly felt like something hit him.

Like it was yesterday, he saw himself walking through the patio during lunch, his eyes going right to the other side of the fence. It was after he created Roscoe and after he started paying attention to Derek Hale of all people. Stiles saw Allison’s aunt right there. 

Of course, he knew her, because Allison herself told him who she was.

In his memory there was Derek sitting on a bench by himself, studying for a test or something, and Allison’s aunt came to talk to him. Just by the way she moved, Stiles could sense she seemed different and back then he didn’t know why. 

There were things only he knew now about the Argent family, and Stiles wasn’t sure he liked what came to his mind.

Lunch break was over before he could actually have the time to answer or Allison to continue hammering on about that. But perhaps there was some reason to all that complaining, though it wasn’t like Stiles knew.

If this woman was as bad as she seemed back then, he wouldn’t doubt Allison for a minute.

But it seemed interesting that someone like her would come to town now of all times. It was like old acquaintances were converging into the same place and Stiles could only wonder what that meant.


	5. Chapter 5

“Can someone explain to me what’s happening?” Erica opened with when she reached Stiles’ locker right after Jackson and Lydia got there. It seemed like they all managed to escape Isaac, Scott and Allison, but then both of the guys had part-time jobs and Allison had archery training after school.

“We are worried about Isaac,” said Stiles, because he knew Jackson wouldn’t really want to be the one to talk about. After all, he liked to keep pretenses about being the jerk of their group.

“Why?” Boyd voiced the question, something that surprised even Lydia. The guy wasn’t one to talk much, that was for sure.

Stiles looked at Jackson for a minute, just in the hopes that he’d like to talk, but Jackson looked back, urging Stiles to explain, and so explain he did.

“I don’t know if you guys realized, but ever since Isaac came to school with that black eye things started to get a bit weird. He’s missing classes and, though he doesn’t seem that different here, Jackson said things at the Laheys’ are not what they used to be.”

“What’s happening with him?” Now Erica asked Jackson, and this time he made himself talk.

“I think I saw his dad hitting him and then throwing things at Isaac. Not to talk about these noises I hear sometimes from my house, like furniture breaking and things being hurled down the stairs.” The image he painted certainly wasn’t pretty, and Erica’s worried face said it all.

Boyd put a hand around her shoulders and held her close to him.

“But can we even do something?” She asked. 

“I talked to my dad, but I don’t know if there’s anything we can do besides maybe give an anonymous tip. Dad said it would be hard to get them to open their doors and let someone in to talk if they might suspect something.”

“That’s a load of bullshit, then” said Lydia from the side, lifting her head from her phone and just staring at Stiles. He kind of had to agree with her on that.

“I know. Dad told me that if someone needed help they should go talk to him and after that he’d have to call Social Services and hope for the best, I guess.”

For a minute all five of them stayed in silence, as if no one knew exactly what they were supposed to do.

“What if we got some footage of what’s happening at their house?” Jackson suggested. “I could even film from my room.”

“But that’s assuming whatever happens between Mr. Lahey and Isaac will happen again,” commented Stiles.

“It would be good if it didn’t,” Erica said with some hope in her voice.

“And that maybe it would be even worse. You know there’s a reason why he was removed from the swim team some years ago,” Lydia provided. 

Everyone knew at some capacity about Coach Lahey and his history with the school, but his exit from the board had been somewhat of a surprise, considering that the swim team had been pretty strong in Beacon Hills.

“Yeah, but that was because of Camden, after he died, I think Mr. Lahey didn’t feel like teaching anymore,” said Erica, but even she looked unsure about her information now.

“No one came forward with stories about that time and most of the swim team from those years already graduated or don’t really talk about it much.” Stiles wanted to have a way to know more about this, although now they were out of places to go looking for it.

“But we have to do something,” pressed Jackson. “I don’t want to have to talk to Isaac-”

“Maybe we should,” Lydia pointed out, but Jackson shook his head.

“Because I don’t know if he will want to talk about this.” 

It seemed like Jackson had something more to say with the way he bit his lip nervously. They all waited while he debated with himself if he wanted to open up about that or not.

“The thing is, Isaac always loved his dad. I remember when we played as kids and he always talked about his dad, like the guy hung the moon. After Camden was deployed and didn’t come back, things changed. He didn’t come to my house anymore, it felt like he was always doing chores back home because his dad suddenly had to take in lots of jobs since Camden wasn’t sending money back home anymore. Even Isaac went to help his dad at the cemetery more than once.”

As Jackson related those fact about Isaac’s past, Stiles couldn't’ help but find parallels in his own life. His family also lost someone and didn’t know how to move on from that. Stiles had to take on more responsibilities and his father went off the rails for a bit before he came back to what he was before Stiles’ mom died. Apparently it didn’t get to this point in Isaac’s life and Stiles couldn’t help but wonder if things weren’t as they were now, how his life could have gone the same route.

“I say we go for the camera plan,” Stiles suggested. 

Jackson nodded, and even Boyd seemed in accord with this plan. Erica took a moment to utter a confirmation, while Lydia didn’t seem like she wanted to give an opinion about it.

Stiles wondered why she was so aloof and distant from the rest of the group at times, but that was over quick before he turned back to the matter at hand.

“I can set up something in the window of my room,” Jackson said.

“And I’ll make sure it’ll get to my dad if something happens again.” Stiles made a mental note of that.

“I’d like nothing to happen,” Erica said, “but I feel like the sooner we get to the bottom of this, the better we can help Isaac.”

The group disbanded not too long after that, since most of the hallway were already empty and they didn’t want to raise suspicion by being there all by themselves.

Stiles went to his Jeep to get home, but before he got inside, he noticed there was a piece of paper in the windshield. He took it, while looking around to check if there was anyone out there that could have left it. At first he thought it might be some kind of ticket and Stiles hoped it wasn’t. When he opened it and confirmed it was a handwritten note, he wished it was a ticket.

 

_ Are the witches running with wolves now?  _

_ Beacon Hills still doesn’t have a good fire squad.  _

_ It would be a shame if something happened again… _

 

Those words didn’t seem to make any sense at first, but when they did, Stiles felt the rush of blood in his ears and sensed how a panic attack was coming to take over him. He still managed to get in the car and drive home. 

Roscoe was waiting for Stiles under a tree in the backyard, grunting for him to come close.

-

Derek was running the perimeter of their original property. In the woods, he could let his senses run free. Derek could hear his Uncle somewhere in the house, and the cars passing by the interstate not too far on the other side. If he concentrated, Derek could sense some of the people in town, like the Sheriff and Stiles, and even some of the other supernatural beings that lived in secrecy. There was a banshee somewhere, Derek could feel it.

It was only because of those senses that he felt the way Stiles’ scent and aura changed so quickly and it wasn’t like Derek was keeping a watch on him specifically, but since he was already running in the woods and Stiles’ house wasn’t that far from him, Derek couldn’t help but change course towards town.

Stiles was hard to read sometimes, but that day Derek could feel his emotions completely jumbled. He was only able to pick up on more things as he got close, like the way Stiles’ breathing was fast and his heartbeat ran wild. Derek felt a wave of adrenaline being injected in his system because it wouldn’t be good if something happened to Stiles, so he had to be alert.

However, when he reached his house Derek could see that Stiles was just hugging Roscoe on the back patio, nothing supernatural was waiting for the right moment to attack him.

Derek made some noise with his paws as he trotted towards Stiles and Roscoe. The deer seemed to be looking at Derek, and a moment later Stiles turned around.

His eyes were swollen and red and Stiles seemed surprised to see a wolf right in front of him. His heartbeat spiked again, but Derek tried to project as much of a harmless aura as he could. 

He was sure Roscoe would have done something if Derek posed a threat to Stiles.

“Derek?” Stiles called his name, and it was as if he knew because Derek nodded his head and then proceeded to walk his way. “Why are you here?” 

Stiles seemed unsure, but Derek couldn’t really respond to him in any way. A whine made its way out of his throat and Derek got close to Stiles so he could run his head on Stiles’ calf, just to make sure Stiles knew he meant no harm.

Derek wasn’t looking, but he felt Stiles’ hesitation before a hand gently descended upon his head, caressing Derek between the ears. He missed that kind of contact and, not that he didn’t feel that in these last years, but most of the time it didn’t have a lasting meaning to Derek.

In this moment, with Stiles right beside him, it seemed different and Derek didn’t know why. What he knew was that he couldn’t really change back now, but he also didn’t want Stiles to feel alone. After working together the other day, it seemed like they’d gotten closer somehow.

Stiles kept petting him, touching him, as if his hand was a magnet and Derek was made out of metal. His touch was calming, and though Derek didn’t need it, his wolf wasn’t able to reject it. 

A part of him almost wanted Derek to give in to his instincts and lay down, show his belly. If Derek wasn’t sure of himself, he’d say his wolf was going crazy, but Derek knew the animal part was something that had a good hold on him and the human part couldn’t very well control what that other side felt.

His hearing picked up Stiles’ breathing as he sucked in a huff of air. 

“I think something bad might happen, Derek.” Those words left him on edge, but Stiles seemed more afraid than in panic, so maybe it wasn’t something that was urgent and had to be resolved right then.

Derek looked up to Stiles, the hand touching him falling aside as he tried to communicate in some way with Stiles. 

Beside them Roscoe was quiet.

“I think it’s good that you came here, because I got something that might implicate the both of us.” Now Derek was curious. “Could you transform back? I’ll give you some clothes and we can talk.”

Derek wasn’t going to say no to that if it meant he could talk to Stiles and find out what was happening. Stiles led him towards the house and then inside, Derek following quietly. He turned his head when Roscoe in the backyard just stared at them with his non-eyes. Derek couldn’t really sense much from the animal, but he couldn’t help but feel kind of attached to it.

Stiles guided Derek up to the second floor and into his room. He went into his closet to pick some clothes while Derek waited. He took shallow breaths so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed by how thick Stiles’ scent was in there. It was interesting, the way his wolf seemed to seek that scent, but Derek knew he shouldn’t pursue it - at least not yet. Stiles and he had some ties that connected them, but it wasn’t enough to warrant Derek keeping him too close.

“I think this will fit you,” Stiles said as he brought some clothes and put on the bed. “I’ll be waiting downstairs.”

Stiles turned back and went out of the room. Derek watched him go, and when he heard Stiles walking around the kitchen, he willed his shift to come over him. Derek was used to going in and out of the shift, his body accustomed to the pain. He could get over it in a minute.

What he wasn’t used to was getting naked in someone else’s house. Derek looked out the window to make sure no one was peeping through there, but the window was open to the woods, which was a good thing because Derek was sure the Sheriff wouldn’t like to know about a naked man in his son’s room.

Derek walked to the bed and inspected the clothes. Sweatpants and a orange and blue striped shirt, both of which looked like they would fit. They did, but just barely. Those pants were tight in his ankles, and the shirt stretched across his pecs. Derek couldn’t help but feel a little ridiculous with the way the tight clothes put him on display.

He went down anyway and found Stiles in the kitchen making coffee - with his magic. He was using a metal coffee pot with a filter at the top as he poured water from the kettle, without actually holding it with his hands. Derek couldn’t help but stop to take that all in.

Stiles looked back to see if Derek was there, but continued making his coffee.

“I didn’t know you could make things levitate,”commented Derek, just to try and clear up the air with a simple question.

“Only when I’m nervous,” Stiles answered, and there went Derek’s plan.

“What happened?” He asked, but before Stiles answered him he finished making the coffee.

When the water poured into the filter Stiles waited for it to drip down the pot, and then he put the filter in the trash, bringing steaming coffee and one mug to the table. Derek was almost going to ask why Stiles wasn’t going to treat him to one mug, but when Stiles parked it right in front of Derek and served him Derek kept his mouth shut. 

“You didn’t make one for you?”

“I said I do it when I’m nervous, not that I drink it that much.”

Derek took a sip of the coffee, while Stiles proceeded to take a piece of paper out of his pocket and put it on the table. Derek was confused about what it was, but then he read the note. Suddenly, the coffee seemed to turn cold in his hand. Derek barely remembered the taste of it, because his mouth was full of lead, and his world tilted to the side.

“Who gave you this?” Derek’s voice came out rough.

“I don’t know. I found it on the windshield of my car when I got out of school. I have no idea who put it there. And before you ask me, I know there aren’t cameras in the parking lot of the school.”

Derek wasn’t actually going to ask that at first, but he was glad Stiles mentioned it. Derek didn’t want to touch on that note, but he couldn’t help but feel like his body wasn’t even his in that moment, because he wasn’t expecting to have the past thrown at him that way.

“This is more than an admission of guilt, Stiles.”

Stiles nodded to Derek, who had to leave his mug on the table to inspect that note closely. Stiles was right beside him, and he eyed the note once again. Those curved and soft letters seemed to taunt them.

Beside him Stiles shivered. “I don’t know what to say, but not many people actually know what happened. My dad covered mom’s cause of death from the public because we know that when supernatural beings die together-”

“Wars start,” provided Derek. Stiles nodded.

“This means either this person knew what happened through an eyewitness-” Stiles paused. He didn’t know if he wanted to say it, but Derek beat him to it.

“Or they’re the ones that commited the crime.”

Stiles dipped his head once.

“I never really thought about the possibility of it being a crime, Dad said the original report ruled out arson. According to him it was a faulty wire coupled with a gas leak.”

Derek huffed out an annoyed breath, all that he knew rearranging itself in his head. “I never believed that. And it just makes so much sense now,” he finally took the note in his fingers. 

Nothing about that writing was familiar to him or the way the words were said, but in a way, Derek had to admit it intrigued him. Not only this person found Stiles to leave that note, but they waited until this very moment.

“Do you think they might try something?” Stiles asked, fear crippling his voice.

Derek wasn’t sure, but the note said one thing. “I don’t know who they are, but if this means anything, they are here.”

“We have to tell Dad.”

“And I have to call Peter.”

“Is this a good idea?” Stiles stopped thumbing the screen of his phone for a moment, but Derek didn’t.

“What?”

“I don’t know, going after this? Because if anything, they have been following us, they might even be watching us now. What if they already have planned something, what if they are just waiting to bring us all here together to finish whatever they’ve started in the past and…” as Stiles kept on talking his breathing picked up again and Derek could see he started to lose himself to the panic once more

“Hey, Stiles,” he called, reaching out to lift Stiles’ face to his, putting his hand on Stiles’ cheek. It made him shut up at least. “We won’t know anything if we don’t ask for help. And even though I feel like I’ve failed to not realize someone might have been watching us, I assure you, no one is doing that right now.”

Stiles looked straight into Derek’s eyes. Through his hand, Derek could feel the energy building inside of Stiles and this close to one another Derek could sense how the kid was almost jumping out of his skin.

“You’re right,” Stiles deflated, but he didn’t move from Derek’s touch. 

Derek put some distance between them, though.

“We’re calling them and then we’ll see what we can do, alright?” 

Stiles seemed to think that was enough because he nodded in confirmation before he glanced at his phone again.

-

It took almost no time for Peter to come through the back of the house. Roscoe grunted when Peter walked out of the woods, but didn’t make a move towards him. Derek saw the way his uncle gave the deer a wide berth, after all saving his life was the reason why Peter didn’t like the Roscoe.

The Sheriff arrived a few minutes later, parking the cruiser out front and then quickly walking into the house. Derek could already smell the way the man seemed distressed and not at all happy to see Derek and Peter there. At least Stiles had coffee for everybody, if that was a way to appease his father in some way.

“Can someone explain to me what’s happening?” Asked the Sheriff when they were all in the kitchen. Stiles just handed him the note.

“It was on my windshield today and I just… There’s no way I was going to be stupid enough to ignore this. You raised me better than that,” added Stiles after a beat.

The Sheriff inspected the note, which everybody had read already. His confusion turned into anger, but then he calmed down. He looked from Stiles to Derek and Peter, and then just pointed to the note.

“There’s no scent on the note, nothing to give an idea of who might have done this?” He asked. 

Stiles looked to Derek, his face showing the realization that he hadn’t thought of that before. But Derek would have said something if he’d found a scent in there, so he shook his head.

“Nothing I can even connect to anyone. It doesn’t smell much like anything.”

“We have to assume they might be supernatural,” said Peter.

“Perhaps,” conceded the Sheriff. “I know the school doesn’t have cameras in the parking lot, but some of the stores on the other side of the street have. I can also check dashboard cameras to see if there’s something in there that might give us a clue.”

As the sheriff offered some suggestions, Derek thought about what he said. 

“But if they managed to not leave their scent behind on the note, I would say it wasn’t impossible to think they covered their tracks in other ways, too,” Peter said as he looked towards Stiles. The Sheriff did the same.

“I don’t know.” Stiles shrugged. “But I can make Roscoe disappear, so it’s definitely not far-fetched to think they might have done something similar.”

The Sheriff sighed, some frustration now coming off of him.

“This might mean that we have no idea who could be behind this,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “But I guess it just confirms my suspicion.”

In a way, Derek hearing the Sheriff might have suspicions about what happened in the past only validated the feelings he’s always had. Not that they were as present in his life as they had been, but Derek felt like it was just so hard to believe a family of werewolves would die that way, not to mention a witch as powerful as Mrs. Stilinski had been.

Beside him, Peter seemed surprisingly calm about this, but Derek could feel that there was something brewing over there. Even if Derek managed to move on from that, Peter always has seemed to have a very firm hold on the past.

“What do you mean?” Asked Stiles. The Sheriff hesitated for a moment, as if he didn’t want his son to hear about what he wanted to say, but Derek could see that this urge to guard him from it didn’t take long to vanish, after all, they were all there for a reason.

The man leaned on the counter and took a sip of his coffee, now lukewarm, before saying a thing.

“I discovered some years after the fire that the analyst that made the report seemed incredibly hard to find. He didn’t have any virtual presence and when I went through the archives to find him, I discovered something very interesting.” The Sheriff made a pause. “He was dead. Has been for twenty years now.”

At that Stiles opened his mouth in surprise and a story Derek never wanted to hear seemed to be ready to be told right in front of him.

“In these kinds of investigations we always lend a hand to the fire department, and even get some help from another precinct when we are short-staffed, which we were back then. I never really went to talk to the guys that came here for the investigation because it wasn’t a good memory for me. But I tried to find them some years down the road and it seemed like they never existed.

“I started an internal investigation, I made calls to the precincts around and I found out that no one had out files in their records, like, no one from around us even knew that the fire happened. The Beacon County fire squad was always searching for new recruits, and the volunteers help, but in situations like that, it’s hard to bring civilians in.

“In short, not even the fire station has records of the fire, and one of the last men that worked back then moved away some years ago. It’s almost like…”

“They made it seem like it never happened,” Stiles said, confusion and revulsion coming off of him in waves. At the same time he seemed to be thinking hard, as if he was ready to burst with the way his brain was whirring.

“Is that even possible to do, have control over so many people at once?” Derek asked, half of him not wanting to believe what the Sheriff said, and another half ready for a fight to find whoever did this.

“This is not a slight against you, Sheriff,” started Peter. He’d been a little ways away from the counter, just listening to what the man said. “But I told you before and I’ll say it again now: if there’s someone or some group of people that can be found everywhere, and they’re not law enforcement but act like it, we know who that might be.”

“I know there are hunters in the force, but-” The Sheriff stopped himself, shaking his head. 

If so much had happened right under his nose, especially if the people under him were involved, it was no wonder the man had to take a moment to reevaluate what he knew about his station.

“Erasing records and having people transferred to some other corner of the country, when they have people everywhere, doesn’t seem like such a hard thing to do, right?” Peter suggested. Now he moved towards the Sheriff. “And what if they had something to do with the fire? What if,  besides the police, there were hunters and even witches or mages, emissaries involved? Creatures that could break apart wolves’ senses in the house and just kill them. And for what?”

The question rang in the air and no one seemed to have an answer to that. Derek could feel the fight in his uncle, the way he wanted to move the world to make things right, but the man himself seemed to know that all alone he couldn’t do much. On the opposite side, the Sheriff seemed to be breaking apart after having to face reality and admit that there were cracks not even he could fix.

“We should talk to Chris,” Stiles suggested. And right when he mentioned the name, his mind seemed to come alive with thoughts. Derek could only feel that from where he was, but he looked at Stiles as something brewed inside of him. 

Stiles shook his head to himself, then he looked at Derek. “Do you remember who was the teacher that you didn’t like in school?”

The question seemed completely unwarranted right now, but both Peter and the Sheriff were curious about where Stiles was going.

“Yeah.” Derek nodded. “ Why?”

“Wasn’t she an Argent, part of the hunter family back then? And didn’t she just up and left right after the fire?” Derek nodded to both questions. “Well, she’s back now.”

“That’s too coincidental-” argued the Sheriff.

“But isn’t it just about that, though?” Stiles shot back, working himself up to something. “Let’s look at things this way. What if the hunters were somewhat involved in this? The woman is in town, she targets Derek to try to find a way in, when he doesn’t give her that, she tries to find another way, that’s where the supernatural creature comes into play. 

“They reach out to all of their connections inside the law and when their plan goes right, they use them to cover their tracks. Now, years after that, right when two werewolves from the original family come back to town, she’s here again. And then there’s the note.”

Sheriff Stilinski shook his head, not because he wasn’t agreeing with what Stiles said, but because he just couldn’t believe it. Derek himself found it hard to believe in all of that, but even if Stiles’ story had some cracks, if it was true, it made sense. Maybe too much sense.

“What I can’t seem to wrap my head around is why they would do this” the Sheriff said, and Derek could see the man was on the verge of a breakdown, perhaps because of all of that baggage from the past he still carried with him or just with the fact that he had to think about the loss he suffered.

Peter sighed, and all eyes turned to him.

“Sheriff, if there’s one thing hunters never made a secret of, it was their hatred toward wolves. Their quest to rid the world of them turned into a profitable enterprise and they managed to garner attention because they were protecting the humans.” Peter breathed deeply for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Our pack was strong, it was a pack that could protect the town, that had in fact protected the town in the past. And maybe the hunters never liked that.”

Derek remembered stories his mother told from the past, but there was one that came to his mind right then.

He looked at Peter before he opened his mouth. “Or maybe some of them never liked the fact that they weren’t accepted into the family,” said Derek, recalling right now the day he heard people shouting from outside the house, when an old man said he’d kill the Hales because they didn’t give him the bite.

He remembers that now.

“This is revenge, Sheriff,” said Peter. “They came to finish what they started.”

-

The Sheriff made Derek and Peter promise not to act on their own and start a conflict that could put them in jeopardy before they left the house. The two of them didn’t really have a pack to help defend their hold on Beacon Hills. 

On the other hand, Stiles’ dad promised to talk to Chris about this. After all, the man had been very open about his hunter business and his lack of connection with the rest of the family. Perhaps now they could imagine why.

Stiles wasn’t sure what to say about all of this because, even though he was the one to make the connections, it all seemed almost far-fetched to him. He didn’t want to believe his mom was killed on purpose, even though for all they knew she was caught in the crossfire.

However, Stiles couldn’t help but wonder about why she wasn’t able to use her powers. If the hunters were indeed with a witch or some creature, perhaps they had been able to neutralize her powers in some way. He just didn’t like thinking about that, but it wasn’t like he had much of a choice.

“I’ll have to go back to the station, Stiles. But you,” the Sheriff stopped for a moment to point at Stiles. “You stay right here. I also don’t want you going off anywhere after this. And I’d say you should even stay far away from Derek, even though I’m not counting on that.”

The sheriff pressed a hand to his forehead. Stiles wanted to assure him he was going to follow those orders, but instead he said nothing because he didn’t want to make promises he wouldn’t be able to keep. He might stay at home for the night, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to stay away from the wolves.

When Stiles’ dad left, he tried to get some studying going on, but that didn’t happen. Since they talked through most of the afternoon, the sun was going down now and Stiles wasn’t sure when his father was going to come home. He was too stressed to make any food and he knew more coffee would just go to waste.

He went up into the attic to get some books from his mom to read, after all, this situation that they were in might warrant something more from Stiles than he could give right now. Only he didn’t know from where he was going to get that extra help.

Stiles barely got to open a journal before his phone started to ring, though. He was suddenly afraid that Derek or his father were calling him because something happened, but when Scott’s name flashed on the screen Stiles sighed in relief.

“Hey, Scotty. What’s up?” He gave up on reading and laid down on the hardwood floor. 

It felt relaxing for a minute there.

“Stiles, can you come here for a moment? I think I might need your help with something.”

That sounded ominous. “What happened?” Stiles sat up.

Scott sighed. “I don’t want to talk on the phone. Just come here, okay?”

“Alright,” he said, but Scott had already ended the call.

Should he even leave home right now? Scott wasn’t exactly on the list of people he should stay away from. Maybe his father wouldn’t like the idea, but Stiles ended up sending him a message about going to the McCalls’ because he didn’t want to be alone, which wasn’t the whole truth, but not a lie either.

He didn’t know if he should take something with him, but it wasn’t like Scott said anything, so Stiles just grabbed his phone and the car keys before he left the house. Stiles closed the front door, but also called Roscoe with a click of his tongue before he got in the Jeep.

“You keep the house safe,” Stiles instructed him, only hoping that somehow Roscoe would be able to do that.

On the trip to Scott’s house Stiles felt tense all over, but if this was some problem Scott wanted him to solve, then Stiles might get some time away from his very real problems. Without going over the speed limit Stiles still got to Scott’s well under fifteen minutes, only to see another car parked right in front of the house. 

Jackson’s car.

He killed the engine and then left in a slow jog towards the front door. It opened before he went inside. Lydia was there.

“This is a surprise,” said Stiles as he got in.

“We hoped it wouldn’t be one, but here we are,” she said, closing the door after Stiles and pointing to the welcoming committee in the front room. 

Jackson and Scott were seated on the couch on either side of Isaac, who held a packet of peas against his temple and a cloth to his mouth. He looked like he was bleeding.

“What the hell happened?” Stiles asked as he got into the room. It seemed like Melissa wasn’t home, which Stiles wasn’t sure was a good thing because she was the trained medical professional.

Isaac looked up to Stiles and his eyes were full of tears. It was easy to just make out what happened. Scott gently rubbed a hand on Isaac’s back while Jackson stayed right beside him. This wasn’t what Stiles was hoping to deal with tonight.

“Was it bad?” Stiles asked as he stepped close to the couch, but not too close. He didn’t want to make Isaac scared.

For a moment no one said a thing. Stiles felt like he should be the one with a cool head right now, so he tried to will the tension away with some breathing exercises. He’d learned them from all the sessions with his therapist and now they might be of some good use.

When it seemed like enough time had passed without someone telling Stiles about what happened for Isaac to get there, Jackson cleared his throat.

“I was working out in my room, and I just saw… it from the window.” Jackson seemed scared from what he saw, with the quiet and subdued way he spoke. “It looked bad and I didn’t know what to do. But then,” he looked to the side, “Isaac jumped out of the window and I knew I had to help him. I ran down the stairs and got out to check on him. His father was screaming, but it was hard to understand...”

“He was drunk,” Isaac provided. He shook his head as if he couldn’t even believe what had  happened.

“I just took him to my car and drove away. I was scared Mr. Lahey was going to come out,” Jackson barely whispered that last bit.

“They went to my house first, but my mom was ‘entertaining’ some friends,” Lydia rolled her eyes when she said that, but then she became serious again. “I thought Scott might be a good option for us, since I didn’t know if the Sheriff was home and we didn’t really know what to do.”

“You did good,” Stiles assured them. “But I think we are going to have to talk to Dad, or Melissa. Someone, because we can’t just keep Isaac away from home without a reason.”

At that Isaac looked up. Stiles could see the anguish in his face, and he would like to be able to soothe him in some way, but it was too dangerous to use magic in front of all his friends, especially after the note. 

“I don’t want to go back,” he said in a plea. 

Stiles crouched down to Isaac’s eye level. “You won’t need to. We’ll find a way to help you, alright?”

Isaac nodded.

“Can he stay here tonight?” Scott asked. Stiles confirmed with his head.

“I don’t think it’s too bad if he stays here one night, but I’m gonna talk to my dad about this and we’ll see what we can do. There’s some other stuff going on, so I don’t know how this is going to solve itself,” Stiles mentioned. Jackson looked at him curiously and Scott frowned.

“Something happened?” He asked Stiles.

“It’s something with my family, but nothing you guys should worry about.” Stiles tried to appease them, because in fact it would be hard to explain all of what was happening with him and the Hales, and what they found out that afternoon without touching some things that Stiles thought were better left unsaid.

“You guys okay to stay here? I’m gonna drive by the station and see if dad’s there, then I’ll talk to him about this, so you guys don’t need to worry.”

“Thanks, Stiles.” Scott shot him a grateful smile.

“It was nothing.”

“Thank you,” Isaac said. “For real.”

“We’re gonna get through this.”

When he left Scott’s house, Stiles drove by the station, but when he got there the deputies told him his dad had just left. He probably saw the message Stiles sent him, so he wasn’t too worried, but even then, Stiles drove quickly back to their house.

He got there and the Sheriff was just closing the garage door, but he held it open for Stiles to park the Jeep inside, too. When Stiles killed the engine and got out, his dad was already closing the door, so Stiles ran to get out of the garage.

“Were you at Melissa’s?” The Sheriff asked.

“Yeah, just left. I think we have some more problems.”

At Stiles’ words the Sheriff looked up. The two of them walked towards the front door and Stiles took his keys out to open it. However, as soon he got the key in the lock a shiver ran down his spine, like someone was watching him. He stopped moving.

“Where’s Roscoe?” Stiles asked.

He turned to look at his dad and right then, he heard a click.

“Watch out!”

Stiles didn’t know exactly what happened, but even before he felt the blast from the inside, something took over him, that primal urge to protect someone he loved, and he felt a surge of magic from within. It felt pure and warm. Just as part of the house blasted into the air, Stiles cocooned himself and his father in a ball of fire as they held each other.

The both of them were thrown towards the front yard, and Stiles couldn’t see where they were going, but he turned them in the air so his dad would fall on him. It was hard for Stiles to even think of what kind of magic he’d need to use, because this happened fast, but at least he had reflexes that protected him.

When they made contact with the grass and both of them grunted, Stiles felt the pain.

For a minute, it seemed like the world was a ball of blurry fire and it was hard to hear anything. Stiles felt hands on his face, and then someone slapped him lightly, as Stiles’ eyes focused.

His dad was staring him down, desperation in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said with some difficulty, but his dad sighed in relief.

Stiles tried to move, but everything hurt.

“Keep still,” his dad ordered, kneeling on the ground to get his phone out of the pocket as he called for help. 

In some way, Stiles knew this was more the shock than anything else because he could move his toes and fingers, even if he felt like everything was on fire.

“Dad?” Stiles tried to raise his voice. He looked at the Sheriff and the man had some burn marks on his clothes, also a small trickle of blood was running down his face, but it seemed like he was fine compared to Stiles.

The Sheriff looked down at him, but he was still talking on the phone. Stiles was a bit anxious about Roscoe because the deer should have been there, but Stiles knew that if someone broke into the house they had to have magic and if Roscoe wasn’t there, then something had happened to him.

Stiles tried to get up and he steeled himself for the pain, which came in full, but Stiles managed to sit anyway. The Sheriff wanted to hold him down, but he was still on the phone, so Stiles sat up and then tried to get his legs under him.

“Stiles, you should stay down,” said the Sheriff when he got off the phone. Stiles was halfway up when the Sheriff got a hold of him, and then he ended up helping Stiles get upright.

“I have to check on Roscoe,” he told his dad and started to make his way to the back of the house. His dad’s phone started to ring again and the Sheriff had to take it, which gave Stiles the chance he needed to start walking around the house, although the Sheriff was right beside him.

The fire burned bright at the front of the house. Stiles could already hear people talking on the streets and cars stopping by, but at that moment he didn’t care about any of that. He and his Dad were alright, but the other part of the family was nowhere to be seen and Stiles felt somewhat hollow on the inside.

He finally reached the backyard, and his eyes went right to the middle of it where Roscoe was lying down on his side, without moving at all.

“Roscoe?” Stiles called to him, quickening his steps and battling the pain. “Roscoe, get up. Get up, now.” Stiles’ voice was like a plea by the end of the sentence and when he reached the deer his knees gave up on him.

Stiles put both hands on Roscoe’s body. It was hard to know how he was because Roscoe was always cold to the touch, but the way he wasn’t moving at all didn’t seem good. Stiles could feel some magic still in him and he wasn’t sure if there was a way to call to that, to make it alive again, but he would try.

“Son, what are you doing?” The Sheriff asked, coming to a crouch beside Stiles.

“I have to save him,” Stiles turned to his dad as he said that. The Sheriff looked at Roscoe and he didn’t seem to know what to do at the moment.

“People are going to come here, ambulances and the fire squad. Whatever you have to do, do it before they come,” he said, finality lacing his voice.

Stiles just nodded at his dad and proceeded to run his hands over Roscoe’s flanks to try to feel if there was a magic hold on him belonging to someone else. It was clear that someone that knew of magic had to have done something because normal humans just weren’t able to see the deer. 

But as much as Stiles tried to think of something to do, it was impossible to sense what there was in Roscoe that he could control. This kind of magic seemed out of reach for Stiles, a type of magic that he wasn’t able to do or touch, wasn’t able to harness on his own. 

Not like he cared about that.

When he was a kid his mother told him about how to enhance one’s magic, right before she told him about all the dangers of doing so. Simple magic can be achieved with will and inner power, but the more you use to make your magic, or the bigger your sacrifice, the bigger your power can become, but also the fall out can be all the more disastrous.

Never before has Stiles considered making any kind of offering or sacrifice to enhance his powers, but at that moment, even through all the pain he felt, even if the world around him seemed to be burning in flames, Stiles was just ready to do something more if he could save Roscoe.

For all Stiles knew, he might have used his existence to defend them, only the creature that came here might have been too strong for him.

Stiles turned his head to look at his father and the man had walked back to the front of the house to clear the street, so Stiles didn’t have to ask his permission. Not that he would. He looked around himself to find where he was bleeding, and there was a gash on his leg, so he put his finger right on the wound, grunting in pain, and then brought some of the blood for magic.

For just a fleeting second Stiles considered what could happen if he gave away his magic as a sacrifice, but perhaps blood would be enough for now. Stiles took a deep breath and rubbed his fingers in the wound, coated them red and then put his hand on Roscoe’s skull, painting the bones.

There were no words to be said for an enchantment or some goddess for him to pray to. Stiles’ magic always came from within. 

Stiles looked at the fire, tried to connect with its power. “I need him to protect me. I need him to save me, and to not leave me alone,” he begged.

Another smaller explosion happened in the house, but Stiles almost felt it inside his chest. He heard the house falling in on itself, and felt how that fire wasn’t something natural. He could sense this strong, dark force behind it and his magic wanted to cower under it, but Stiles wouldn’t let it happen. 

Roscoe was a filter for his magic and a vessel for him to expand it. Without him Stiles would have to find something else to anchor him, although his mother always had warned him of the dangers of using someone or something to help him with magic. Creatures and animals might have smaller life-spans, but humans were always complicated because those are bonds that don’t always last forever.

However, Roscoe was Stiles’ pure magic, for as long as Stiles lived he would be alive too. 

Stiles closed his eyes, tried to envision all the power he knew he had and then proceeded to direct it at Roscoe, but nothing happened. It was like he hit a wall and Roscoe became a statue.

Maybe the same that happened with him before his mother died happened again. Someone stronger had taken a hold of Roscoe and wouldn’t let go of him while their powers still existed. Roscoe came alive after Stiles’ mom died and there was a chance he would live again if the power controlling him didn’t exist anymore.

Realizing that made Stiles stop forcing his magic. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to help Roscoe now, but Stiles just couldn’t leave him down there.

Mustering all the strength he could Stiles tried to drag Roscoe towards the woods, so he would be somewhat safe in there until Stiles found a solution. His body wasn’t nearly strong enough for Stiles to move him more than half an inch at the time, and he wouldn’t be able to do that before the sirens came blaring. 

In fact, he could hear them coming from afar.

“Come on, Roscoe. Help me,” Stiles begged, feeling his body give up on him as he tried his hardest to move the animal.

Stiles wouldn’t give up. He kept pushing and pushing, exerting himself as tears fell from his eyes and the pain in his body became unbearable. But he kept going. He kept going until he could feel that there was nothing else he could do, until his eyes started to lose focus and his mind became fuzzy.

The last image he saw before he lost his senses was that of a wolf coming to his rescue once again.


	6. Chapter 6

While Derek ran towards the back of the house in full shift, Peter ran to the street. Even before the explosion, Derek felt tense all over. There was a disquietude about him he didn’t know exactly where it came from. Perhaps it was because of everything that happened in the afternoon and things didn’t seem right. 

Then he heard the scream. Derek knew there was a banshee around town, he’d felt her, but never before had he heard one screaming, so when the voice pierced the air and a second later the house exploded, Derek’s whole body knew where to go.

He found Stiles trying to move Roscoe out of the backyard, but he was going nowhere. Derek took over and grabbed Roscoe by the scruff of his neck to drag him towards the trees. His body was full of adrenaline and his senses were hyper-aware of everything, so even if he couldn’t know the cause of the explosion, Derek just knew it had to be connected to the note.

For that reason, he tried to focus on everything around to catch a scent or something that would lead them towards the culprit.

When he came back to Stiles, however, Derek rid his head of anything else. Stiles was alive and breathing, but his body was taking the toll of either the explosion or something else. It felt like he was drained of energy and it seemed like it was because of magic.

Derek stepped close to Stiles, sniffing him around the chest and then nosing him along the line of his jaw, trying to calm down his wolf. Stiles seemed fine, but Derek didn't want to leave him there on the ground. Any minute now someone could jump out the woods and come for him and Derek didn’t know if he could fight whoever did this. 

“Derek?” Sheriff Stilinski called from behind him, Peter in tow. He seemed anxious. “You have to get out of here,” said the man quickly.

“We can take Stiles to our house or…” Peter started, but midway through his suggestion he seemed to realize that, if Stiles’ house, that was protected, ended up caught in the explosion, there was no way their own house was safe.

The Sheriff looked from Peter to Derek and sighed. “Take him to Melissa. I don’t want anyone to know Stiles was here, and I don’t want to keep him in the hospital unprotected. She’ll know what to do.”

Derek wasn’t sure he liked the idea, but Peter nodded, and then stepped close to Derek.

“I’d better take him, because I don’t know what’s the better choice for us: a naked man or a wolf.” Derek wanted to growl at his uncle, but he knew better. 

He watched closely as Peter hefted Stiles up in his arms and then looked once at the Sheriff, nodding at him before taking off towards the woods. Derek looked after him, but stayed back for a minute. 

“Derek?” Asked the Sheriff and he turned to look at the man. “Take care of him,” he pleaded.

The Sheriff’s gaze went from Derek to their house on fire, and he turned around to go back to the street. 

Derek couldn’t say a thing, but the promise was made. 

He didn’t go after Peter, but ran to his house to change into some clothes. He didn’t know how fast he was able to run because in minutes he could already see the lights from the house, though Derek stopped some yards away from the clearing because he sensed a presence in there. 

He stopped far enough away that whoever was there couldn’t sense him, even though a part of him wanted to run there and rip them apart, not even knowing who they were.

When he put his head between some bushes his eyes went to the woman that was on the front lawn of the house. She had long, blonde hair, her eyes trained on the front door, almost as if she was trying to spot differences between this one and the other. 

Derek couldn’t see her face, but he went on alert. 

Another another woman came out of the house. Derek couldn’t control the shudder that ran through him. The blonde woman turned to the side for just a second and Derek saw her face as she walked towards the other woman, who had black hair and a fair skin. 

He didn’t know who was the other woman, the one with black hair, but the blonde was Kate Argent. Exactly the one Stiles had accused of being behind all of this. And it seemed like now she just targeted another house.

“Everything done?” Kate asked.

“Yes,” answered the other woman. “But there are only two wolves living here and there’s literally no protection in the house, so I don’t know if they are going to get the chance to find out anything.”

Kate laughed. “All the better. If all’s set, we should move.”

The other woman nodded. As Kate turned around, the other woman looked right at Derek and there was fire in her eyes. She knew he was there somehow, but said nothing. Kate just walked towards the car and the other woman quickened her steps to follow Kate. 

He didn’t know who this woman was, but she knew he was there and said nothing. Derek was afraid to move until they drove away, but he had to give up on finding clean clothes for himself. There was no way he was getting inside the house anytime soon, he’d need Stiles’ help for that.

-

Stiles woke up with the feeling of pain that enveloped his body. His eyes didn’t even want to open, but he forced them to comply so he could see where he was. The first person he saw was Melissa and it looked like he was in Scott’s room, but Stiles wasn’t absolutely sure.

“You alright?” Melissa asked, with a small curl of her lips. Her voice was quiet enough to soothe him, but Stiles couldn’t help but start to feel agitated the more his thoughts returned. 

He didn’t know where his dad was or what happened at the house after he tried to drag Roscoe away. He remembered seeing a wolf that looked like Derek, but Stiles couldn't know now what happened.

“Stiles?” Melissa called him again.

“Yeah?” His voice almost didn’t want to come out.

“You’re alright,” she assured him.

“What happened?” 

“How much do you remember?”

Stiles thought for a moment and started to put together the pieces in his head. “There was an explosion. And I remember being in the backyard before I passed out. And now I’m here.” He carefully left out the part where he tried to drag Roscoe away and the wolf he saw.

“I brought you here,” said Peter from beside the bed, sitting on the floor. Stiles startled when he realized the man was right there.

Stiles looked to the side and saw that Peter was holding his hand to draw the pain away. Right in front of Melissa. The panic in his eyes as he looked from her to Peter said it all, but Melissa shook her head.

“Don’t worry Stiles, I know,” was all she said, but how much she knew was impossible to know.

For a moment no one said a thing as Melissa dressed the wound on his leg, the one Stiles used to try and wake up Roscoe. He hoped Derek had indeed come to help him get Roscoe somewhere safe. He also wanted to know where his father was.

“Derek’s here,” said Peter in a quiet tone. 

“I’ll tell the others to let him come in, just let me finish this.” Melissa worked quickly to wrap Stiles’ leg and then she left the room just in time for them to hear a yell from downstairs.

Peter tensed beside Stiles, but didn’t move from where he was. 

“She’s explaining to the kids what’s happening,” said Peter. 

“Kids?” Stiles turned to Peter.

“There’s a bunch of them still there. And a banshee, if you didn’t know already.”

At that Stiles held his breath. Who among his friends was something supernatural? He never felt them, never sensed their powers in any way and probably that was because he might have never learned how to do it with his mom, or just because Stiles wasn’t as good a witch as he’d like to think he was.

“Mom, are you sure this is alright?” Scott’ voice sounded as he climbed the stairs. There was tension in his words.

“Yes, Scott. It’s alright. We’re safer here than we’d ever be anywhere else,” Melissa told him. Stiles lifted his eyes to watch as Scott and Melissa walked by the room. 

However, when Scott saw Stiles with his eyes open, he stopped by.

“Hey, man,” said Scott as he stepped inside, but as soon as his eyes found Peter in the corner of the bed he halted his movement. 

It was clear as day how uncomfortable he was with the situation, Stiles only would like to know if they told Scott about what Stiles himself was.

“Hey Scotty.” Stiles sent him a wave, and Scott awkwardly answered with another one himself.

“You okay?”

“I think so,” Stiles said. 

A black wolf came up the stairs behind Scott. As soon as Derek stepped closer Stiles could see the nervous breath Scott let out. Scott looked to the side as Derek walked around him and moved into the room.

Scott didn’t seem to know if he wanted to run or scream, but it was obvious he didn’t like this at all. 

“Scott?” Melissa called from the hallway. “Come here.” Her voice brought him out of his reverie, and he looked from Peter to Derek and then Stiles before motioning with a hand to his mom.

“I’m going,” he said, and then turned around to leave.

Derek stayed in the room. Stiles watched as he stepped closer to the bed with his eyes intent on Stiles. He’d seen Derek as a wolf before, but with him so close now Stiles didn’t know exactly what to feel. He knew there was some kind of wonder in having that creature so close to him, but also danger. 

Looking at Derek now, Stiles could imagine why hunters managed to have such successful business. At the same time he couldn’t help but feel like the world was losing a lot in not trying to have a harmonious existence with these creatures.

“Hi,” Stiles mumbled the word, and beside him Peter snorted.

“No need to get nervous now, after all, he was the one that saved you more than once,” said the man. Stiles was somewhat nervous and embarrassed at the same time.

“I know.” He tried to control the way his voice almost broke at the end. “I just never really looked at Derek this way before.”

The room was engulfed in silence for a moment, as Derek kept looking Stiles’ way. His eyes were like pools of dark water, but his features seemed softened with the way the fur covered everything. Up close he didn’t look as terrifying. But then, Stiles was used to Roscoe.

And thinking about him was enough to bring images of what happened to Stiles’ mind.

“Did you hide him?” Asked Stiles without saying a name, but Derek seemed to understand because he nodded with his big head.

“He did,” confirmed Peter. “Your deer was dead to the world, but I assume you already know that.”

Stiles nodded. “I think whoever broke into the house put him under a spell. And I’ll have to deal with them before I get to have Roscoe back.”

At the mention of dealing with someone, Derek whined very low in his throat, something between a plea and a warning. Beside him Peter tensed just a tad, enough for Stiles to feel it, but before he could ask anything Melissa came back with Scott in tow.

“Hi,” she smiled in chagrin, as if sorry to interrupt them. “We got you some clothes. They’re in the bathroom, Derek. They smell old, but they’re clean.”

Scott said nothing, but his eyes seemed to want to come out of their sockets.

“We’ll be downstairs when you’re ready,” Melissa said to Derek. Then she looked at Stiles. “But not you, mister. You stay where you are.”

Stiles frowned, but stayed silent. Melissa dragged Scott down the stairs and Derek waited a beat before moving out of the room. He still cast a look Stiles’ way before he left.

“Don’t worry,” said Peter beside him. “I’m sure you’re going to be included in the plan. You have to.”

Peter said that in a way that didn’t leave any doubt, but then Stiles knew exactly how useful his powers could be. And he’d yearned for that for a long time. He didn’t want to just be someone on the sidelines, didn’t want to hide anymore, even though he didn’t have a choice most of the time.

In a minute Derek came back. He was barefoot, wearing sweatpants and a large shirt, which Stiles was pretty sure had belonged to Scott’s dad in the past - it was a surprise to see that they still had it. 

“Why didn’t you get a change clothes?” Asked Peter.

“I couldn’t go home.” Derek’s voice was ominous and tired. If he came to Scott’s house in his wolf form this meant something happened.

Stiles could only think of one reason why.

“They were there,” said Stiles, almost like an accusation.

Derek nodded. 

“It was exactly who you said it would be.”

“Kate,” Stiles added. The fact that he was right didn’t make him any more accomplished than he felt now.

“What was she doing there?” Asked Peter. It looked like he wanted to move, but since he was taking Stiles’ pain he stayed right where he was. Derek saw that and then went to Stiles’ bedside.

“Probably planting another bomb or something.” Derek looked troubled. “I don’t understand why they are so persistent.”

Stiles also couldn’t understand, but he knew there was a story behind it, and he hadn’t had the chance to know all of it before.

“Why did they want to do this in the first place? You said revenge, but why?”

“Because we followed the rules,” Peter simply stated.

Derek crouched down besides the bed. He took Stiles’ other hand, just as Peter released him.

“It’s more than that,” said Derek. “Someone from the Argent family was dying, years ago. It was cancer and there was no cure. But we all know of the magical properties of the bite and how it’s a toss-up between life and death for those that are bitten.”

“But a fifty-fifty chance is better than no chance at all,” said Peter as he got up from the floor.

Derek seemed to really amp-up his drawing-pain-thing because Stiles suddenly felt a bit lightheaded, but also relaxed.

“We couldn’t just give the bite, though. There was a law that was voted by the hunter association, after years of negotiation with wolves and it said that there had to be a strong bond between the person that wanted the bite and the pack they were to be brought into. No one that won’t be a part of a pack can receive the bite.”

“A hunter will never be a part of a wolf pack,” commented Stiles. 

Peter snorted from the side. 

Derek nodded. “It didn’t seem to matter, because Gerard Argent came after our family for years.”

“Up until he disappeared,” added Peter.

“So he’s not dead?” Stiles asked.

“We don’t know,” Derek said. “But as much as I think Kate is involved in this, she wouldn’t do all of it alone. Back then, she was brought to Beacon Hills by Gerard, after she spent years in France. Chris never seemed to want to be a part of whatever she was.”

“Dad did say some good things about him,” Stiles added.

“Still a hunter,” Peter said from the side, and Stiles could hear the hatred in those words.

“Anyway, we think Gerard might be pulling the strings behind the scenes in some capacity, but Kate is the executioner. She and the woman I saw today.”

Stiles wanted to know more about them, but at the same time he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask. Nothing that Derek could say would prepare him to go after this creature, witch or whatever she was. Unless he was able to recognize what kind of magic she used, Stiles was on his own.

“It was just the two of them?” Peter asked.

“Yes. I got close to our house and saw Kate on the outside and after a minute this other woman came out. She didn’t smell much like anything. I think there was no smell around her at all.”

“Her magic is strong then.” Stiles filed that bit of information away, but it wasn’t like it was a surprise to him.

“Do you think you can go against her?” Derek looked at Stiles up close, but he didn’t really get an answer.

Right then Sheriff Stilinski’s voice sounded from downstairs and Derek looked towards the door as the Sheriff climbed up. As glad as Stiles was to have his father right there, in his mind a whirlwind of thoughts was taking over.

He needed to find powers he didn’t know he had if he wanted to defeat whoever this woman was.

-

Even though Melissa wanted Derek and Peter downstairs, they never really left the room, especially after Stiles’ dad came. The Sheriff wanted to see if Stiles was alright and stayed beside him, so if they had to plan anything, Stiles was going to be there. Of course, all of his friends wanted to be in on it too, even though Derek and the Sheriff agreed on the fact that they had to stay out of it.

“All of you are not really involved in this and it would be better if it stayed that way,” said the Sheriff when all of them climbed up the stairs and were waiting outside of Scott’s room. Derek could sense Stiles’ tension at seeing them there, but also how grateful he was that they were worried about him.

Derek knew Stiles felt alone because of his magic, which was something Derek had to admit all supernatural creatures felt in some way. Having all of those kids right there to cheer him on seemed important for him.

“But we want to help,” begged Scott. Behind him, most of the kids nodded their heads, although Derek could see some fear and suspicion in their eyes. 

Behind Scott there was a boy with blonde hair that was cowering on the side and then another blonde girl close to him. Behind her there was a black kid who looked like he was looming in the background, and then another blonde guy that looked like he was afraid of everything. At his side, Derek saw a red-headed girl, and she was… 

She was supernatural. And Derek couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was the banshee.

“I know you all want to help. But it’s already a good thing that all of you are taking care of Isaac, I don’t want more of you at risk of getting hurt like Stiles,” said the Sheriff in a stern voice. They didn’t have much to say to that, but Derek knew they were there and wanted to be a part of something.

As much as he’d want help from more people, there was no way they could do much, especially if they barely knew about the supernatural.

“But Lydia can help, right?” Said Scott, still pressing. “I mean, she screamed right when the house exploded. I’m pretty sure there’s something she can do.”

The girl, Lydia, slapped Scott in the back of the head, probably not wanting him to divulge information about her.

“What?” Scott turned to her to protest.

Lydia only made a face at him.

“I know we can’t do much and I don’t even know what you can do, but I want to help. Especially if it means we keep Stiles safe.” Scott aimed those words to everyone in the room, and Melissa right beside him just rolled her eyes, but there was some fondness in her gaze.

The Sheriff pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Even if I say ‘no’, you’re going to get involved in this anyway,” he said like it was a sure thing and his eyes went to Stiles. Derek looked at him too and saw the way Stiles seemed torn. 

“Thanks for this, guys,” Stiles said. “I appreciate the help, but I don’t want any of you to get hurt, like dad said. But if you can bring Allison here to talk, that will be all the help we need for now.”

Everybody in the room looked at Stiles and Derek already wanted to ask what he was trying to do, but then the Sheriff frowned.

“It’s her, dad,” Stiles said, confirming the suspicion he raised earlier in the day. However, his friends seemed to be taken aback at his words, probably getting the wrong meaning out of them.

“Allison?” Asked Scott, panic and disappointment in his face.

“I’ll call Chris,” said the Sheriff before anyone could say anything else. Stiles shook his head to Scott.

“As far as I know Allison is fine. We just want to know about her aunt,” he said.

Those words seemed to appease Scott.

“Are you looking for Kate?” Asked Lydia, coming forward. During the conversation most of the kids advanced inside the room, and at the moment it was hard to even move inside.

Derek still had Stiles’ hand in his, although he could feel now that the pain had subsided considerably. However, there was still this current running between them and Derek didn’t know how to explain that. It wasn’t something he felt physically, but rather emotionally, something abstract that was hard to describe.

Right in that moment, for example, when Stiles expressed his curiosity about what Lydia could tell him, Derek felt some of that. He also could sense how his own heart was speeding up just a bit so it could synchronize its beats with Stiles’ heart, and that was something Derek didn’t really know how to explain, but just a quick look at his uncle told him he was also suspicious of something.

It didn’t seem bad, because Peter looked at their joined hands with a semblance of hurt, but also yearning. 

“Allison has been talking about her, right?” Asked Stiles, and Lydia nodded.

“She’s been talking about her ever since her aunt moved to Beacon Hills. After Allison’s mom died some years back it has been her dad and her all alone in their house, but apparently her aunt came to Beacon Hills out of the blue and Allison even mentioned that she was talking about bringing her and Chris’ father to Beacon Hills.”

And right then Peter looked at Derek. Gerard was alive, then.

In that moment, the Sheriff came back into the room.

“I just got off the phone with Chris, he’s going to meet us here-” someone interrupted the Sheriff.

“I sent a message to Allison and she’s coming with him,” said Scott.

The Sheriff looked at him with some displeasure in his face. The man’s eyebrows said how done he was with all of this, but the situation had gotten out of hand for everybody. Not only has this been a night full of revelations, but also there was just no time to even think about what they should do.

At least with all the people that were involved in this in the same room it would be hard for anyone to plant a bomb in the house right now.

But they could play with other characters in the story. 

From outside the window, a cry was heard, it was a mixture of a bleat and a whine that extended for a long time and Stiles tensed beside Derek. 

“That’s Roscoe,” he said, panic setting in his body. 

He wanted to get up from the bed and look out the window, but Derek was quicker, and Peter too. They put hands on Stiles’ shoulders to hold him down as they rose to reach the window. What they saw out there made Derek tense. He held Stiles’ hand almost too tight for a moment, before he remembered Stiles was still mostly human.

“They’re here,” announced Peter, and Derek could feel how the air became charged.

He could see Kate and the other woman, who was holding Roscoe at her side so the deer couldn’t move, not that he would unless it was a command.

“We can make this easy for everybody if you would just come out,” said Kate from the outside. “There’s no need for us to hurt all of you.”

At first it seemed like a bluff, because no way would they do something like that, especially after what they pulled at the Sheriff’s house, but then Derek started to see more people coming out on the street from the houses and backyards. They were all hunters, that much Derek knew. There was just so many of them, it was hard not to feel like they were in big trouble and no one would be able to save them.

The Sheriff broke between their barrier to look outside, and Derek heard the uptick in his heart.

“They want to take the town,” the man whispered. 

Derek realized he was looking at a man that was on the back wearing the Sheriff attire. There was more police force disguised in the middle of the hunters, and there was also Chris and his daughter in the middle of their group, but they didn’t look like they were part of it - in fact, she had her mouth covered with a cloth and Chris seemed to have his hands bound behind his back.

“We have to move away from the window,” announced the Sheriff and when everyone inside didn’t move quick enough, he shouted again, “Everybody to the first floor, now!”

Derek lowered his body close to Stiles, who seemed to be more than apprehensive, but he looked into his eyes and saw something that comforted him, Derek didn’t know why.

“I want to help,” Stiles said. A part of Derek would want to say no and protect him, after all, Stiles was just a kid and he’d suffered enough in his life, but another part of Derek couldn’t say that.

Especially when Derek heard Peter.

“He might be our only hope, Derek.” And he believed what his uncle said.

The both of them were strong, but they wouldn’t be nearly enough to fight magic. Wolves hadn’t been enough in the past. Derek only hoped Stiles could be it now.

-

Stiles watched as everyone left the room. His father and Derek were there with him and Stiles could see in his father’s face that he wanted Stiles to stay. But he couldn’t. When they said Kate was there with an army of hunters, the last thing Stiles wanted to do was stand back and do nothing.

“Are you sure, Stiles?” The Sheriff asked when Derek helped Stiles get up from the bed. He didn’t really need the help, but he wasn’t going to send Derek away.

“Yes, Dad.” Stiles tried his best to seem strong and show that he was ready for whatever was going to happen.

The Sheriff stepped close to Stiles and looked into his eyes. There was fear in those eyes staring back at Stiles and it wasn’t exactly the first time he saw his father afraid of something, but it’s been such a long time since that happened Stiles wasn’t sure how to act now.

Was he supposed to save everyone?

“This is not a war, this shouldn’t even be happening,” Stiles’ father said. “I’m pretty sure whatever magic being they have with them is controlling the street or something like that. But before we go fighting about this, I want to talk to them.” These last words he said to Derek.

Stiles looked at Derek, who only nodded in confirmation.

“I don’t want to fight,” Derek said. “I don’t even know if we can do anything against them.”

It was hard to know what was behind Derek’s eyes, but Stiles could feel that there was some of the same he saw in his father.

“They’re waiting for us,” Stiles reminded them.

With a heavy sigh, the Sheriff put a hand on Stiles’s shoulder and squeezed him tight. It was almost like a reassuring embrace, but Stiles knew his father wouldn’t want to give him one, just because it would mean he expected something bad to happen. Stiles knew the Sheriff wasn’t going to tempt Fate like that.

The Sheriff left the room and Stiles went after him, but before he could leave, Derek reached towards his hand and Stiles turned to him.

“You said I had magic, right?” Derek asked.

Stiles nodded, not knowing where Derek was going with that. “You do. But I’m not sure I have time to teach you anything that will be worth right now.”

“I know,” said Derek. “But if you need to draw power from something, you can take it from me.”

Stiles was taken aback for a moment, because that was something people just didn’t offer to someone else. However, since a long time ago both of their lives had been entwined around the supernatural and this town. Now they were battling some force that none of them knew exactly how strong it was, but they were together, just like the first time.

“Okay,” Stiles confirmed with his head. “But you have to fight me if I take too much.”

Taking someone else’s power wasn’t something to be done lightly. Transferring powers is dangerous, be it for those that gave away their power or those that received it.

Derek squeezed Stiles’ hand and brought him just a bit closer. It was almost like Derek wanted to look at Stiles and save this moment in his mind and Stiles somehow knew he was doing that. Derek’s eyes were trusting; Stiles didn’t know exactly how to take care of that trust.

For one moment, Stiles thought Derek was going to do something more, but then the man turned around and released Stiles’ hand, walking out of the room and taking all the warmth with him.

In Stiles’ stomach, there was a single butterfly trying to bat its wings.

They followed everyone into the kitchen. Melissa was giving out orders for the kids to stay there. Stiles didn’t know how to feel about Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Scott, Jackson and Lydia being there, because he wanted them to be protected from all of this.

“I want all of you that don’t have powers and aren’t the police to stay with me,” she said. Jackson, Erica and Scott all wanted to protest, but Melissa shut them up with a raised hand. “I’m not having any kid hurt on my watch.”

Her tone was final and most of those who were in the kitchen grumbled in frustration. However, seeing them like that, Stiles had an idea. It was maybe a stupid one, but it was an idea nonetheless.

“Melissa, can I give you and everyone else something to do?” As he stepped forward she looked at Stiles with some suspicion but nodded her head to him.

“I know Scott still has those cheap fireworks we bought for the 4th of July last year-”

“Those that are all smoke?” She asked.

“Exactly those. I know there’s a box of them in the attic. Can you get them and keep a close watch to my signal? Maybe we might need you to light them.”

The Sheriff looked at Stiles, catching some of whatever he was planning on doing.

“You really think a distraction will work?” Asked the Sheriff as he stepped close to Stiles. 

“Hopefully it will.” Stiles lifted his shoulder at a loss, the muscles of his back pulling a bit.

“Besides the witch, or whatever that woman is, none of the others are supernatural,” provided Peter.  “So unless they can see through smoke, this can be a good distraction.”

“Only light them up if I give you the signal and then run away,” Stiles added. “We don’t know if they might want to explode this house too.”

And just as he said that, Stiles realized he didn’t have a home anymore. He’s been all over the place tonight and at that moment he wasn’t even sure what was going to happen with his future. He just wanted to get through this.

“We can’t keep them waiting out there forever,” said Peter.

“He’s right.” Sheriff Stilinski came into the middle of the kitchen and looked around. 

Stiles was sure that never before had his dad had to deal with something like that, because there hadn’t been a supernatural fight in town in forever. Beacon Hills wasn’t known for those things to begin with, but for a town that seemed sleepy and boring, Stiles just wanted to go back to those days.

At least it seemed like things were going to end.

He was the last one on the line to go out the back. He looked once towards the kitchen, to all of his friends, and Stiles made himself a promise to come back to them, to save the town, and save himself.

When he stepped out the back porch his father was waiting besides the door. Stiles, the Sheriff, Peter and Derek walked into the backyard, towards the group gathered in there. There was something in the air that Stiles could feel, it was hard to know exactly what it was, but he sensed the magic. It was thick like a cloud but invisible. It affected him, but not enough for Stiles not to have a good handle on his powers.

“What a pleasure to be welcomed here by this committee,” Kate was the one to do the honors. She stepped forward, and the woman beside her did the same. 

Stiles saw right then that there was some kind of connection between the two and, most likely, to fight one, you’d have to defeat the other.

“I wish it were under different circumstances,” said the Sheriff, ever sensible when dealing with difficult situations.

Kate only smiled. “Maybe we all wouldn’t be here. But where’s the fun in that.” 

Stiles felt his lips trembling with fear, but he opened his mouth anyway. “This hasn’t been fun in the least for me. It wasn’t in the past, and it’s not now.”

Kate turned her eyes to him and the woman beside her did the same. He didn’t like the way that woman looked at him, both of them, but Stiles kept his straight façade.

“I must ask you, what do you want to achieve with this?” The Sheriff interrupted the staring contest and both women turned to him.

Derek and Peter were silent besides them, but when Kate looked at the two Hales and sneered at them, the wolves’ hackles rose. Stiles got ready for the fight that was about to breakout, only it didn’t come because Derek took a deep breath and controlled himself. Peter took longer to settle down, but he managed to do it too.

“We were always fair with the wolves,” Kate started again and it was possible to see that this was a sensible subject to her. “We kept to our side of the treaty and the one thing we wanted as a favor from them, they never gave to us. My father was dying and we went all over the place for help. Some packs ran away from us, some packs didn’t even have alphas strong enough to give the bite, and then we came here to ask the Hales, with the strong pack they had and they said no, to our faces!”

“It was a favor and we took the liberty of excusing ourselves from doing that,” answered Derek respectfully, but there was a bite to his tone not everyone seemed to catch.

“But it wasn’t just excusing yourselves. My father was kicked out of your home like we were  _ dogs _ ,” shot Kate, like even the word was disgusting to her.

“And isn’t this how we were treated?” Derek raised his voice. 

Stiles didn’t like how all the people around were so silent and almost lifeless because although Derek wasn’t exactly fighting Kate, it was bound for some hunter or two to express an opinion about his words, but they were completely silent.

He turned his eyes to the woman besides Kate, and he could feel how her power was emanating in waves all around them. She realized she was being watched and turned to Stiles. It was almost imperceptible, but all the hunters behind her shifted just slightly, turning their eyes to where Stiles was.

She was controlling all of them, that much was clear. She might even have created all of them.

Stiles had to take a moment to think. He only created a deer, and that was when he’d been a kid. Ever since, he’d never been able to do something like that and he never really tried because he had no idea how to do it. But for the woman to have made so much with her creations, Stiles was sure she either was impossibly powerful or she sacrificed a lot of blood for that magic.

The latter seemed the most credible answer.

“You are all dogs,” Kate said, regaining some of her composure. “And we let you run free, but maybe it’s time for that to end.” 

She moved her hand as if to order the hunters to come forward,  but before she could do that, the Sheriff jumped in front of her and opened his arms. 

“Stop! This doesn’t have to be like this!” He exclaimed. Stiles didn’t like how his father was just in the middle of it, because he’d like him safe and sound, and he held himself in check not to do something hasty.

“What are you going to do with me? Take me to your little two-piece jail?” Kate laughed at her own joke and like she made the order in her mind, the man dressed as a Sheriff stepped forward together with the rest of her made up ‘police force’ just awaiting orders.

But this was all the woman beside her.

“I don’t want this to end in more death. Don’t you even think of your family?” Said the Sheriff, pointing at Chris and Allison in the back of the group.

Kate didn’t spare a glance towards them.

“They weren’t grateful for our blood when they needed to be, they never cried for my Father. They chose to ignore our traditions and what made the hunters such a great force in the world.”

“You mean, they didn’t choose to kill for sport,” said Peter from the side, his voice icy-cold.

Kate shrugged.

“I always loved to do that, anyway.”

Seeing that this was a fruitless negotiation, the Sheriff made a movement to take the gun out of his belt, but before he could even move, the woman beside Kate flickered a finger and the Sheriff went flying to the side.

“Dad!” 

Stiles wanted to move his way, but at that moment Kate lifted her hand and the small army of hunters moved with her. He didn’t know what he wanted to do first, because the two wolves just launched themselves at the hunters, and Stiles’ father was down for the count.

Stiles turned to the house.

“Do it now!” He shouted, and then he looked back at the fight that was on the brink of breaking out and just opened his hands.

Stiles had discovered a lot of things about using magic to win fights, but he never used them. Enhancing his own strength was one of the ways to win fights, but at this scale, being stronger than two of three hunters wasn’t going to cut it. 

He concentrated in that very moment and took a long deep breath, holding the air in as he looked to everyone around. When he stopped breathing they all stopped moving, and as long as he could hold his breath everyone in his field of vision would be completely unable to move. 

They could still think and speak, though.

“What are you doing?” Kate screamed as her limbs didn’t answer her.

Stiles looked at the witch beside her and the woman just tilted her head to the side, as if she was studying Stiles.

“Do something!” Kate ordered the woman.

For a minute Stiles felt just a force trying to undo his magic, but it was more of a probe, trying to feel out how his magic worked. He held strong, looking at the witch as he chanted in his mind for Scott to speed up. He heard some pops and then the first of the fireworks went up in the air from the second floor. 

They were aiming at the hunters, and since they couldn’t move, there was no way they could defend themselves. Scott even found some flare signals and lit them up before throwing them into the patio. The smoke started to spread.

Stiles felt again something probing at him, almost like a finger touching him. It started on his back and then moved around until it pressed into his stomach. At first, it was soft, but then he felt like that finger wanted to pry into his ribs and rip them open, but Stiles held still.

He stared at the witch, as she looked intently at him. And then she smiled.

Stiles’s lungs popped open like someone kicked a door and he wasn’t able to hold his breath anymore. He exhaled as everybody started to move and fight.

Between the smoke and the confusion, it was hard to know what was happening. To keep his father hidden, Stiles created a bit of a pulse of air to bring the smoke towards the area where the Sheriff was. Then he turned to the hunters that were coming for him.

Between the grunts of pain he heard, Stiles worked on enhancing his strength. 

He breathed deeply once again as he thought of powering up his right arm right before his fist connected to a hunter that was coming his way. The man quickly went down, but another one came to punch him in the stomach. Stiles barely had the time to transfer the strength to his left leg so he could kick the man back.

But then there was another man and another and Stiles knew this was going nowhere.

He breathed deeply again and spun around in the same place, opening his arms to attract the smoke in the air to hide him. He closed his eyes to let his magic feel the air around him and help Stiles escape from the ambush. He needed to find Derek and Peter in the middle of the fight, but it was hard.

Derek was growling in his wolf form and Stiles heard the sound of exertion from Kate. Hopefully, Derek had learned how to fight in the years he’s been away from Beacon Hills because that would be needed now.

Stiles moved towards where he could hear their fight going, but before he could move someone grabbed his hand, and Stiles came face to face with the woman that had been accompanying Kate.

“So we meet,” she whispered. Her voice was almost sweet, but the intent on her face was anything but that.

“Who are you?” Stiles asked, not being able to release his hand from her grasp.

“I’m the same thing you are, Stiles.”

“How do you know my name?” 

“Because I knew your mom. But excuse me, I didn’t introduce myself: I’m Julia. Jennifer. Anna. Maria. Esther. Samantha. Ravenna. Charlotte. Cecile. Elizabeth. And Claudia.”

At hearing his mother’s name Stiles couldn’t help the shiver that ran through him. 

“What are you?” He whispered more to himself than her.

“I am what you can be. Your mother talked to me only a couple of times, but what she told me about you always seemed to be incredible. Can you imagine a child that created something without knowing how?” Her voice had wonder in it, but Stiles was afraid of the way she knew more about him than he would like her to.

“I still don’t know how,” revealed Stiles, trying to buy himself some time as he kept her talking.

“Are you sure?” The woman tilted her head to the side. “Because you just have to imagine it and it will happen. You need a bit of blood for that to happen, for sure. You can see by the amount of creatures here that I’ve spilled a lot of it in the past.”

“But I didn’t use blood to make Roscoe.” Stiles shook his head trying to clear his mind.

“That’s why he’s the way he is. It’s silly to think you would be able to create something without blood, Stiles. Blood is creation.” As she said that, her nails pierced Stiles’ skin, and he saw just a little bit of blood running down his arm.

“And why did you do all of this?” He asked, bringing her attention back to his face, trying to stave off the pain.

“Why?” She smiled. “The more people I kill, the more power I have. Can you imagine how much power I got when your mom died?”

Stiles’ blood ran cold. He felt ready to take her on right there, but he heard a gunshot and Julia just lifted a hand to stop the bullet that was going to hit her in the head. With a flicker of her fingers she opened a hallway of smoke to where the Sheriff was, gun aiming at her.

In that moment Stiles knew she was about to do something with his father, so he couldn’t really think before he jumped on her, taking her to the ground. Stiles breathed deeply and put all the strength of the world in his right hand, ready to punch her into the grass, but Julia caught his hand like it was made of paper.

“You think I’m that easy?” She asked, moving his hand to the side as she lifted her head towards Stiles. She was too close, and he felt her breath in his face.

At the moment Stiles almost thought he was out of options, but if Julia knew of his powers if his mom said he was special, and if Stiles had powers she was interested in, there had to be a way for him to defeat her.

And perhaps he knew how.

“I want you to take my power,” he said between breaths.

Julia smiled. “You sure?” She asked, sweetly.

Stiles sat down beside her and offered his hand. “Let’s make a deal, you take all of my power and you let us live.”

At first, she seemed taken aback by his offer, but Stiles knew that she wanted power more than anything if she’s been with Kate all this time, but perhaps the quest for power corrupted her past any chance of making an alliance.

“That easily?” 

“Yes. If it’s to save everyone, I’ll give you my power and then you go.”

“Stiles, you know that your power is your life, if I take it, you’ll die,” she explained to him as if he didn’t know of that.

“I know. But if it will keep everyone alive, I’ll do the sacrifice.”

The moment she steeled her resolve, Stiles knew he had to act quick. Taking powers from someone else was exactly like taking their lives, but in that tiny window between reaching for someone’s power and absorbing them, all witches were vulnerable and equal.

Julia took Stiles’ hand and he could see that she spent a moment just thinking. Stiles felt nervous and anxious because the fight was still happening and he wanted it to end, but then that probing finger touched him again and he knew it was her.

“Let me in, Stiles.”

He did. 

But once he felt her inside of him, inside of his head and his magic, Stiles thought of all the good things he’s had in life until now, all the people that were there for him, that saved him, that wanted him alive, and all the good things he did until this moment. With his own strength Stiles knew he wouldn’t be able to defeat her, but that’s why he needed help. 

While Julia poked around in his head, Stiles searched for Derek in the smoke, searched for him with his mind. When Stiles found the black wolf, the same wolf that saved him as a kid and saved him again just hours ago, the wolf he never really forgot, Stiles latched onto him and when he touched Derek’s power it felt like an infinite well.

It was like Derek himself didn’t know it was there.

With that power in his hands, Stiles sent a flicker of energy through his skin and tested to see if Julia felt something.

“Stiles? What are you-” Before she could finish the sentence Stiles grabbed her hand, and with his other, he searched for the blood that she took from him before. 

“I’m killing for sport.” 

Stiles’ magic went through her body and found her heart. He didn't need to destroy her completely, but if he managed to grab her heart and rip it out of her chest she was done. Witches were magical, but they weren’t immortal. Most of all, their bodies were human.

He looked at her chest right when Julia did the same, and like someone had punched through her skin, her heart just jumped out of the ribcage, ripping her skin open and falling to the ground, exposing her guts.

Julia looked at him. In the last moments of her life, the rage inside of her exploded like fireworks in the dark of the night.

Curiously enough, Stiles didn’t feel the flames. 


	7. Chapter 7

In the aftermath of the fight, Stiles found out that Roscoe was actually non-flammable, which was something he never thought could come in handy. When he ripped Julia’s heart out everything faded to nothing, the creatures she made disappeared like dust in the wind. Left was only the smoke of what seemed to be a fire that burned nothing, for once.

Even her body turned to dust, but Stiles was protected from the fire because Roscoe planted itself in front of Stiles to protect him.

“Stiles?” His dad called, distress in his voice. Stiles raised his head to look at the man, who seemed battered but alive.

He rose from the crouch behind Roscoe as his father came to him. “You’re okay?” He asked.

“I’m the one that should be asking you this.”

Stiles nodded his head and a small smile bloomed in his face. He took a last step to hug the Sheriff, then. When he felt his father in his arms, a wave of emotions that had been hidden very deeply came over Stiles and before he knew it, he was crying.

“We’re alright,” said the Sheriff, but he held Stiles as close as he could.

When they released each other, Stiles was engulfed by his friends, who formed a circle around him, with Scott the closest.

“Oh my God, Stiles, you’re alright!” He said before mashing his head against Stiles’ neck. Erica and Isaac formed the rest of the circle, and even Jackson patted Stiles in the back.

Lydia was a bit in the back, she looked slightly afraid of what happened, but when her eyes met Stiles’ eyes he knew they’d have a good conversation in the future because there was no reason for them to keep secrets from each other after all.

Even Melissa came to hug Stiles after his friends gave him some space and he loved that bit of motherly love she had for him. It wasn’t near enough compared to what he’d like to have gotten from his mom, but it wasn’t like Stiles could be picky right now.

“Is it over?” She asked him.

Stiles looked around. He saw smoke giving space to the streetlights at night. It was completely quiet and most of the houses around were engulfed in darkness, like all those that lived there slept through all of that. For a moment there, Stiles considered how powerful Julia had been, but in retrospect, her own power had been her demise. He wasn’t sure how much magic only one person could possess and perhaps she stretched herself too thin.

At the side Scott was helping Allison up and Stiles’ father was talking to Chris. Further on the sidewalk there was Kate’s body, and Peter close to it like a guard. His clothes were torn, but he seemed fine.

Derek was nowhere to be found, but Stiles didn’t have time to be worried because he turned to where Roscoe was and saw a big black wolf close to him.

The wolf turned to look at Stiles and then came trotting towards him. Stiles crouched down to be at his eye level. He was surprised when Derek almost launched himself at him, giving Stiles a hug and rubbing his head on Stiles’s chest.

“It’s over, right?”Stiles asked, but the wolf couldn’t very well answer him.

A lot of things were over, that’s for sure. Stiles didn’t have a house, but he also didn’t have to worry about someone wanting to kill him and his family.  

He hoped he was right.

-

Even though Melissa offered her house for them to spend the night, after the Sheriff managed to send everybody home with a promise that this story should be kept a secret, Stiles didn’t let his father take her offer.

“We have to go with the Hales to see if anything happened with their house,” he explained.

“But her magic won’t function anymore, right?” His father questioned Stiles.

“I know, but I just want to make sure. And I’m the only one with magic in this town, so...”

His father looked at Stiles with just a bit of doubt in his face, but he nodded. He pointed to the cruiser for them to go, but Stiles shook his head.

“I’ll take Roscoe with me,” he told the Sheriff.

Stiles’ dad looked at the deer in question, tiredly sighing.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. You can go by car, I won’t make you walk all the way into the woods, I think you’re done your amount of exercising for today,” Stiles told him.

His father huffed out a laugh while he walked to the car. Peter went with him.

Stiles went to Roscoe and Derek followed him. Stiles was going to ask Derek to ride together with him, but that would be weird. Derek was a wolf and wolves couldn’t ride deers. Humans could, but Derek was naked under his wolf fur and that wouldn’t work.

-

The wolf walked slowly after Stiles in the forest. Roscoe was making his way calmly across the woods and this felt like a nice reprieve from all that they’ve lived through in these last days. It was almost too hard to fathom that it was over and Derek almost couldn’t believe it.

As those thoughts raced in his head Derek watched Stiles and how quiet he was. Stiles didn’t say much until they got to the house and then he sensed if there was magic inside, but he couldn’t find anything. It seemed just like the way those hunters disappeared, nothing came out of their house anymore, not even with three or four different repelling spells.

Peter sent the Sheriff to take a shower on the first floor, while he went to the one in the basement after sending Stiles to the second floor to clean himself. Derek went to find some clothes for them to change into.

Derek waited at the door to the bathroom where Stiles was, wearing a robe because he hadn’t put on any clothes yet. When Stiles left the bathroom, he looked at Derek for a second and before his cheeks got rosy he moved to the guest room. Derek went for his own shower, but didn’t take long to clean himself.

After he left the bathroom, Derek went down the stairs to find his uncle and the Sheriff in the kitchen.

“Stiles didn’t come?” Asked Derek.

“He said he was tired and wanted to sleep,” Sheriff Stilinski told him. Derek hummed, tamping down the disappointment that he didn’t know exactly where it came from.

His relationship with Stiles was of a different nature, which Derek wasn’t even sure what it was. He dated people, had friends, but whatever there was between him and Stiles didn’t really have a name. They never had time to become friends when they were young, they never really shared secrets and things that were only theirs, but at the same time there was a bond between them that Derek couldn’t deny.

Even with Roscoe. Maybe it was something from the past, in that very first moment they met in the woods. From then on, things changed. He heard all his life about bonds between supernatural creatures, but there was no explanation to that. Of course, no one ever took the time to study those bonds without some desiccation involved, and Derek didn’t want to be a test subject anyway.

But he was curious about what connected him and Stiles.

“Any plans for tomorrow, Sheriff?” Asked Peter after he offered a glass of wine to the man.

Derek would like to mention that Peter was often selfishly drinking by himself, but maybe this occasion warranted a company.

“I don’t know,” the man shook his head. “I don’t think it has sunken in that we don’t have anywhere to go anymore, that most of our stuff has burned. The firefighters managed to control the flames so it didn’t reach the garage, but the rest of the house is done for.”

As he said the words, Derek could see some desperation in his face, but also a lightness that he hadn’t seen there before.

“I did want to move out of the house, but not like this.” The Sheriff looked at nothing.

“If you need somewhere to stay, our house is open.” Derek put a hand on Sheriff Stilinski’s shoulder. “There’s space here for a big family and, after all the help you gave us, I think we should give you something in return.”

Sheriff Stilinski looked glad for the offer, but also sad.

“Thank you for everything. Both of you. I’m just worried about Stiles, because he loved that house.”

The Sheriff breathed deeply. Their conversation didn’t go on for long because everybody was tired. A night of sleep was certainly warranted.

Derek went up the stairs after he checked the locks and walked the perimeter of the house, but it was all completely quiet. The fact that he saw Kate’s unmoving body on the ground was satisfying and a good way to make him settle down - Chis offered to deal with it, and Derek was glad he wouldn’t need to see it again.

The upstairs were quiet when he came back. Everyone had already closed the door to their rooms, but as soon as Derek got into his own he heard a silent cry coming from the other side of the wall. It was where Stiles was sleeping.

For a minute he didn’t know if he should go there or not, but when he couldn’t take hearing that anymore,  Derek gathered his courage and went over. He knocked on the door before he pushed it open. Stiles turning his head from where he sat on the bed to look at him.

When he realized it was Derek, Stiles wiped his eyes with the back of his hands.

“I thought everybody went to sleep already,” Stiles commented, trying to seem like he wasn’t crying.

“Werewolf ears,” explained Derek in a quiet tone.

Stiles nodded. After a moment he motioned with his head for Derek to get in, which he did as he closed the door behind him.

The room was bathed in the faint light of the moon because, for once, there wasn’t fire lighting the night. Derek walked to the bed and sat besides Stiles, still maintaining some distance between them. Stiles sniffed once and then inhaled deeply to stop himself from crying some more, though Derek still smelled the fresh tears in his eyes.

“At least it’s over, right?” Reasoned Derek, not knowing exactly what to say. He wanted to help Stiles in some way, but he didn't know how to approach this situation.

Stiles sighed. “Yeah. It is.”

“And we’re all alive this time.”

At that bit of dark humor, Stiles huffed out a laugh, though the smell of tears became fresh again.

Stiles pulled his legs up to the bed and hugged them to his chest. “I lost everything that was my mom’s.”

Derek realized that, in a way, Stiles was reliving the fire all over again.

When more tears came, Derek didn’t hesitate to move closer to him and put an arm around Stiles’ frame, bringing them together. Stiles leaned against him, seeking comfort in Derek’s arms. This close to Stiles made his wolf content, but Derek didn’t want to think of the implications of that because in that moment he just wanted to be there for Stiles.

“All that I had of her was in that house, Derek. Everything.”

“But you still have the memories. Mementos are as special as the things we have of those we love. Those memories last forever.”

Stiles shook his head. “I lost all the books and journals on magic. Everything my mom wrote probably got burned.”

“And you think you’ll lose your powers because of that too?”

For a moment Stiles said nothing, so Derek kept talking.

“From what I saw tonight, you have enough power in you to start writing your own journals, your books on magic. I’m pretty sure you can do it. As for those things that belonged to your mom, they were things, Stiles. When this house burned down and my parents died, I thought for a moment of all that reminded me of them. I realized later on that they were just things. We can have them, lose them. We assign meaning to them on our own. Years after the fire I have the most precious memories of my family with me, and that’s all that matters.”

Stiles breathed out. “I started to forget my mom, though. And I didn’t want to- I didn’t want to lose the house and our things because it was the only way for me to find that connection to her. And now…”

Stiles put his head on his knees and hugged his own body. Derek did the same, laying his head over Stiles’, keeping him tight and together. He couldn’t draw emotions out of someone, so Derek wanted to try to find a way to soothe Stiles like this.

At first it seemed impossible to imagine that he would calm down, but in a minute or two Stiles’ cries turned into a whimper, and then just a breath. He leaned against Derek’s body and his heartbeats aligned with Derek’s, not in the same rhythm, but it sounded like music to Derek’s ears.

When he seemed calm enough, Stiles lifted his head and he and Derek looked at each other’s eyes.

Derek could see that Stiles was curious and anxious. He didn’t know what this was and why they became close, in the same way Derek didn’t know. But as much as he’d like to discover more about what there was between them, this moment was about Stiles and his own pain, so Derek leaned close to him and kissed Stiles on the forehead.

Stiles wound his arms around Derek and hugged him, pressing his head to Derek’s throat.

“Thanks for this,” he whispered.

“It was nothing.” Derek pressed him close before releasing Stiles.

He left the bed but watched as Stiles laid down under the sheets. Since the light in the room was out, Derek could make out Stiles only with his senses, but he saw the grateful smile Stiles sent his way.

“Roscoe is snoring already,” Derek commented before opening the door, as a way of showing Stiles that everything was alright.

Stiles huffed out a quiet laugh. “I never saw him doing that before.”

Derek couldn’t help the curl of his lips.

“Then you might want to see about letting him stay around here. I’m sure the woods are big enough for him to make a home for himself.”

“I’ll think about it,” said Stiles, nodding his head to Derek.

“Good night, Stiles.”

“Night, Derek.”

He moved out of the room in silence, looking towards the other side of the house to make sure both the Sheriff and his uncle were alright. The Sheriff was asleep, but his uncle seemed to be awake still, which meant he heard everything that went inside Stiles’ room.

Peter was going to tease Derek in the morning, but that didn’t matter. Right now Derek just wanted to close his eyes and think of nothing else.

He dreamt of wild deer running in the forest.

-

_future_

Stiles stared at his reflection in the mirror as he adjusted the necklace around his throat. It had been just a joke, Stiles wanted to find some old clothes because he was in a crafting mood for the Summer-ween party Lydia invited him to. They wouldn’t be able to get together that year, since most of the group was splitting up for college, so she wanted to have a party during the summer before everyone went away.

Stiles searched for some stuff that Melissa had in her attic and some old boxes Derek told him that they kept in the Hale vault. Stiles had found an embroidered red blanket and an old necklace, which seemed perfect for his Goth Red-Riding Hood costume.

He just threw something together because money was still tight. The insurance had been enough for his father to put a down payment for a smaller house, but they still had to spend a lot on buying the essentials. Stiles found a job at the local library to get some money to help his father.

Derek offered to give them money, but Stiles would never take it. Their friendship became stronger and Stiles loved to spend time with Derek in the forest. Still he had his pride. If he’d gotten the hang of creating stuff perhaps he’d have made himself some clothes, but Stiles tried and all of the things he created were too ripped to even be called fashionable.

“You look less gothic than I thought you would be,” commented Derek as he came up the window of Stiles’ new room.

He managed to hide his startle, but Derek had a grin on his lips and Stiles didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of shaking Stiles up.

“The neighbors are going to call Dad again,” Stiles said as he adjusted the necklace. He was shirtless, only wearing some red pants which he got as a gift from Lydia.

“He knows it’s just me,” Derek answered, lifting a shoulder.

“But they don’t.” Stiles turned to him.

Derek lowered his eyes to Stiles’ chest, and Stiles was sure he was going to make a comment about Stiles going shirtless since he still hadn’t put on his cape. Stiles himself hardly liked to show his naked body, but Derek on the other hand...

“You’re still going to the party as a wolf?” Stiles asked, reaching for the eyeliner Allison loaned him.

Stiles turned to the mirror and started applying it to his eyes. He trained for that, Stiles wasn’t going to lie. Still, with Derek leaning against the wall, wearing his leather jacket, skinny jeans and a shirt that was a tight fit, Stiles’ eyes couldn’t stay in place for him to do his makeup.

But then it was just a party and it’s not like he had to be precise to the maximum. Perhaps he’d need to think of a spell for applying makeup in the future.

“You said the party is close to the lake. And even though I’m not really much for these kinds of things-”

“Said the old man,” quipped Stiles, which prompted Derek to roll his eyes.

“-I’m going because the rest of the pack will be there too.”

Of course the rest of the pack would be there. Isaac and Erica had been turned last winter, with full approval of Chris. After the downfall of the Argent family, the hunters had to save face in the supernatural community, so around California there was a talk of loosening some of the accords they had about creating packs.

Erica asked for the bite because of her disease and Isaac because he didn’t know where to go after his father signed his emancipation and he moved out. Boyd was still mulling it over and Scott, even though he received the invitation, said no right then, but Stiles wasn’t sure if in the future he wouldn’t go back on his decision.

Allison was still from a hunter family, by all means, but she’s always been distant from the rest of the family, and after what happened with Kate she slowly moved into their group - not part of Derek’s pack, for sure, but an acquaintance.

Jackson wanted the bite, but when they did the test before the process Derek and Peter caught something in his blood that made them back down, so Jackson’s bite was still on hold, even though he wanted it. Lydia for her part was pack by proximity and for the fact that she was as supernatural as Stiles, so they had to stick together.

As for Stiles himself, his place in Derek’s pack was somewhat a mystery. Derek asked him to be their emissary, but Stiles didn’t want that title. He would be a witch, and if Derek wanted him in their pack, Stiles should be called that.

Then, Derek asked if Stiles would like to be the witch of the pack, and that had been a good day.

“Ugh, this is terrible,” Stiles mumbled to himself when he finally finished his eyes. It looked like an earthquake happened while he painted himself, but that would do. The party was going to be at night, anyway.

“Not like you’re planning a night out, there will be the same people as always at the party,” commented Derek, but Stiles detected the smallest edge to his words. He couldn't be jealous or anything like that.

For sure.

“Ha-ha. What about you, no effort at all in your costume.”

“I do have to break some bones to become a wolf, so I wouldn’t call it effortless.”

Now Stiles rolled his eyes. “You won’t even need to talk at the party.”

Derek pushed himself away from the wall and walked towards Stiles.

“You expecting me to make some conversation with you?” Derek asked.

Stiles lifted his shoulders, suddenly shy. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Maybe I wanted to dance.”

“Well, you can always ask someone else.” Derek shrugged. “Or you can dance with me naked.” Derek lifted an eyebrow at Stiles, who only huffed.

“Like everybody wants to look at your naked ass.”

“I heard some comments,” Derek shot back. He was insufferable.

Stiles walked to the bed and grabbed his cape to put around his shoulders. He used a small cord to tie around his neck, and there was his costume.

“You’re driving the Jeep like this?” Asked Derek.

“I’m taking Roscoe. It’s on the other side of the Preserve so I can take the long trail. I can give you a ride if you want,” offered Stiles.

“I have to be naked though because I don’t want to lose this jacket,” commented Derek, a slight challenge coloring his words.

Riding Roscoe with Derek on his back wouldn’t be such a hardship, but did the man have to actually go naked? Stiles wanted to say something, but the smirk in Derek’s face was just impossible to fight, he just liked the guy too much. This easy banter between them was so refreshing and Stiles was going to miss him, even though his college of choice was at driving distance from Beacon Hills.

“I’m going to miss this, you know?” He said.

Derek’s smirk eased into a smile and he got close to Stiles. Derek put both hands on Stiles’ shoulders, caging him against his body when he pulled Stiles for a hug.

“I know,” said Derek. Stiles could hear his heartbeat, but then he lifted his head.

Derek didn’t release him, so their eyes were close, their noses almost touched. Stiles could feel Derek’s breath on his lips.

It never happened before, but it was impossible to say the urge never came. Stiles stared into Derek’s eyes and in that moment he wanted to jump into those colorful pools. He was drawing Stiles like a moth to the flame. The two of them did make the entire story of Red-Riding-Hood and the big, black wolf seem like more than a tale.

“You didn’t put anything on your lips?” Asked Derek.

Stiles frowned in confusion but shook his head.

“I didn't want to smear your makeup,” said Derek before he closed the distance.

Stiles was taken by surprise, but in a second he let himself ease into the kiss. Derek was slow as he moved his lips against Stiles’ mouth and his tongue came out just briefly to lick at Stiles’ lips. It was testing and such a surprise that Stiles barely got the feel of it before it was over.

“What was that?” He asked, confused but horny.

“Something I should have done a long time ago,” said Derek.

“Maybe you should have.”

Derek laughed.

On the way to the party, Derek rode naked on Roscoe behind Stiles’ back. Though he transformed into a wolf before they reached Lydia’s house, but it was quite the entrance anyway.

They didn’t kiss at the party because that would be gross, but Stiles demanded another kiss when Derek delivered him home at the end of the night.

And he got it.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Mage, the Wolf and the Familiar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15265257) by [evisionarts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evisionarts/pseuds/evisionarts)




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